Tattered and Broken, Stolen
by unforgiven601030
Summary: Grillows with a touch of GSR: grissom finds catherine upset after shift ends and he finds out she was aware of his relationship with sara. then something goes wrong along the way when they're called in to find catherine gone.
1. Chapter 1

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: I don't know CSI or anyone from there personally. I am a mere fan, letting her imagination run wild with the borrowed characters from the creators and writers. I am in no way associated to the show or any of the cast or crew members. I'm simply a stranger with nothing better to do than wander in this dark, forlorn and empty life.

This is a GRILLOWS fic with a little GSR but I'm all for GRILLOWS… it's just drama when GSR was put in.

Author's note: I apologize ahead of time if anyone who might read this might get offended by some sort. This story was not mean to offend, it is merely the product of a very bored girl's mind.

Chapter One: Sad Eyes

She sat in her office, in her leather seat in front of her desk. The papers were neatly stacked, she had finished all her backlogs that night after a surprisingly crime free night. Now she sat, contemplating on what she could do now that she had nothing to do but go home to an empty house with Lindsay out and her mother somewhere else.

She held her head in her hands, each palm resting against her temples. She was shaking, she could feel it, but she didn't know why. She it her bottom lip, biting hard enough that she thought she might draw blood. She could feel the tears pool in her blue eyes, feel them threatening to fall.

Her thoughts are no longer coherent, her body almost felt weak and her emotions were in overdrive. She was in turmoil, everything failed to make sense as the world around her felt as if they were collapsing. She didn't know what to think anymore, she didn't know what was left for her.

"Catherine," a firm voice said, shaking her out of her thoughts.

She looked up, rubbing the tears from her eyes. "Yeah?"

He looked at her questioningly.

"Tired," she said simply. "I finished all my backlogs last night."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "Late night, huh?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I was just about to leave…shift got done just a few minutes ago. I should get to Lindsay…"

He nodded. "You okay?"

She forced out a smile. "Yeah, I am. Of course I am."

He stood still by her door and she sat, waiting. They both shared an uncomfortable silence. She looked at her palms on her lap, he looked around her office. His eyes fell on the fetal pig he gave her for her "office warming" from him. "I can't believe you kept it."

She looked at him oddly. "The fetal pig," he said helpfully, nodding at the jar of flesh and preservation.

She nodded. "Couldn't resist."

He smiled.

They were back to the silent state until Sara came.

"Griss," Sara said, acting as she always would, as if things were normal. "Uh, I'm heading out."

Catherine rolled her eyes as Grissom and Sara looked at each other, trying to hide what they most kept secret. She had to hand it to them though, she thought bitterly. If she hadn't found out she wouldn't have suspected judging from the way they both interacted. Normal.

Grissom nodded. "You go ahead…I have a report to finish, just some narratives and closing."

Catherine could see the disappointment flash briefly in the younger woman's face who covered it immediately, she assumed it was due to fear of getting caught. "All right. I'll see you…later."

Grissom nodded. "Later."

Sara looked at Catherine with a small smile. "See you around, Cath, tell Linds I said hi."

Catherine nodded. "I will."

Then just as smoothly as she arrived, she was gone, leaving the two in the uncomfortable silence again.

Catherine ran her hand through her hair and stood up, grabbing her purse. "I think I'll head out too."

"Won't you join me for breakfast?" Grissom asked suddenly as she reached the door, just a few steps from him.

She thought for a moment. "I thought you had something to finish?"

"The dead can wait," he said nonchalantly.

She was alert in an instant. He blew Sara off, talking about papers then asks her out and brushes the papers aside, "The dead can wait…" She knew Gilbert Grissom and she knew this was not the way he usually was. It was such a normal thing to do, blow off, brush off, lie…but the man, Bugman, was far from normal in which his case would make it seem not normal.

"Uh-huh," Catherine said. "I just finished my reports and Ecklie will get your ass for not doing them in time. I think you should get back to work." She walked past him and out into the hall.

He watched as she started to walk away. "Cath?"

She stopped, but didn't turn to face him.

"I miss you."

He saw her lift her face, her eyes staring at the ceiling for a moment before he heard her sigh. "Don't…" he heard her say softly.

Puzzled, he asked, "Don't what?"

"Don't do this to me, Gil…just don't…don't tell me you miss me…" she said, her voice faltering.

He knew her well enough for twenty years to know that meant she was crying. "Catherine, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Oh, what the hell," she said before turning to face him, her eyes red as the tears slid down her pale cheeks. "You already know I'm crying…why hide it, right? I'm such a pathetic idiot…"

He took a step toward her, but she stepped back. "Catherine, why are so upset? Did I do something?"

She bit her bottom lip, running her hand through her hair in a sign of frustration. "That's so typical of you, Gil. So freaking typical…"

"What did I do, Cath? What did I do to you now?"

In the corner of her eyes Catherine could see the people start to watch, though they were trying to be discreet, it was obvious the two supervisors were gaining some unwanted attention. She wiped her tears and rolled her eyes in a vain attempt to stop them from falling.

"Good bye, Gil," she said as she turned and walked away, leaving Grissom standing in the hall in a ball of confusion, his questions left unasked and unanswered.

He stood for a couple of seconds that felt almost like an impossible eternity until he felt the world crash around him and he was jolted back to reality and he took off after her. He ignored the surprised and suspicious looks as he ran past everyone until he caught her in the LVPD parking lot.

"Catherine!" Grissom cried and she froze. "Catherine! Whatever it was! I'm sorry!"

She turned to him, her blue dull and misty from her crying. "You don't even know cause you never gave a damn! You got what you wanted, Gil! Just leave me alone!"

"I got what I wanted what's that suppose to mean?" Grissom asked.

"You have Sara and you always wanted that, didn't you?" she asked. "Didn't you!"

He stood shocked, he wasn't aware she knew about him and Sara. Nobody was suppose to know. "How did you…"

She let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. "I've know you for twenty years, Gil, and I never knew you to make mistakes until…well, until two weeks ago! I should have known or at least suspected it…but I just had to see it, didn't I, Gil?"

"What are you talking about?" Grissom asked.

"I saw you making out in the locker room, damn it!" she screamed, dropping her purse as she throw her hand up in the air. "You were all over her and god forbid, you had your tongue down her throat!"

"Catherine…"

"No! Don't you dare lie to me because I saw you and I never told anyone!" she cried. "I didn't ever know why the hell I shut up! Why I had this stupid notion to protect you!"

"If this is about not telling you, I'm sorry Catherine…I was going to tell you…"

"I don't give a damn!" she screamed. "Just leave me alone, Grissom… you don't want me anymore, you don't need me and you certainly don't have to bother about me. Go to Sara, Grissom. Just leave me alone."

She grabbed her purse from the ground and ran to her Denali.

"Catherine!" Grissom screamed as he ran after her.

"Damn it," she hissed as she fumbled for her keys in her purse. She heard his footsteps getting closer and she was cursing the gods for her keys. She had to get out. She had to.

"Catherine!" he said, grabbing her by the arm. "What has gotten into you? I'm with Sara, isn't that what you've always wanted for me? To have a life? To have someone to share my life with?"

She bit her bottom lip, forcing herself not to burst out and tell him everything. She's already humiliated herself enough and she wasn't about to add salt to her own wound by doing something stupid like spitting out her confession like an idiot.

"Please, Catherine, talk to me," Grissom said, desperation in his voice.

"I hate what you do to me…what you never fail to do to me," she said softly.

"What did I do to you? What? Tell me so I can make it right."

"**I hate that I'm always the one to push you and threaten you with bodily harm just so you'd open up and tell what's in your head, I hate the way you'd always look at me with those stupid puppy eyes whenever you want me to finish some stupid report you couldn't, I hate that after all the years you were there for me you walked out so suddenly that I didn't even know what the hell happened, I hate that you took Sara's side when she embarrassed me and disrespected me, I hate that it was Ecklie who stood up for me even when I didn't need it…I hate that you so gallantly fought for Sara when Ecklie kept pushing you to fire her, I hate that you…you said you NEEDED her when not once did you ever tell me I was something somewhat significant in you life…I hate that you were so drawn to Lady Heather and pushed me away even then, even when we first met her…and I hate that you had to give me that look of disappointment when you found out about Adam Novak, that you accused me of holding back information when you knew I did try to tell you but you brushed me off! I hate that I wasn't even aware of your goddamn sabbatical until it was late…I hate that you weren't there when Eddie died cause even then you weren't around much anymore…I hate that you weren't there when I had to deal with Sam and my mom…I hate that you weren't there when Sam died, that you never asked how it felt to have my father die in my arms and I couldn't do a goddamn thing to save him. I hate that you're never around for me anymore…that I had to deal with almost being raped because you were already a stranger to me, that I couldn't even bear to tell you what happened…I hate that you never even gave me a hint about Sara…I hate…" she took a deep breath. "I hate that you so easily replaced me with Sara even after Lady Heather and…how you can so easily just push me away from your life may it be Lady Heather, Sophia or Sara…I hate that you can get physical and share your feelings with her and god knows who else…hate that they could all creep into your life so suddenly, so easily and you can just let your guard down around them when I had to get all bloody and messy just to know what you're feeling, what you're thinking…"**

Gil stood shock and unmoving as her words slowly, so slowly sunk in. He wasn't aware of how he had missed so much when he was well aware of all those events taking place. He could blame his work, Ecklie, even Sara…but he knew he was greatly at fault.

"Now you know I know about you two," she said quietly, having calmed down from her unbidden outburst. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Good bye, Grissom." She slipped into her Denali and locked her doors, she gave him one last sad look before driving off.

Gil Grissom stood shocked and frozen, her words still running through his mind, bringing back the pieces of their past. He hadn't meant to push her aside, and in his mind he never did for he thought that he had always kept her safe, kept her happy.

He didn't know that he was hurting her more than anyone ever did. She didn't have to tell him.

He saw it in her sad blue eyes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm new, I'm a rookie so please let me know if I should make some improvements…I would appreciate your feedback! Please comment so I'll know when I have to keep going…-iferleigh


	2. Chapter 2

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: I don't know CSI or anyone from there personally. I am a mere fan, letting her imagination run wild with the borrowed characters from the creators and writers. I am in no way associated to the show or any of the cast or crew members. I'm simply a stranger with nothing better to do than wander in this dark, forlorn and empty life.

Note: My favorite is Catherine and I apologize ahead for what this chapter may imply and may graphically describe. I love Catherine, this is just the way the story goes.

Chapter Two: Screwdrivers and a Picture

Catherine spent the drive in total silence as the tears fell down her cheeks. Her mind was in overdrive and she was glad the road wasn't as busy as usual or else she would have been likely to get in an accident. That was the problem with Vegas, the city that **never** sleeps. Her mind wandered against her will, her memories flooding back like a tidal wave she couldn't fight.

"_She's a great criminalist, Conrad, and I need her," Grissom said, his eyes almost pleading._

"_I'm sure you do," Ecklie said with a hint of sarcasm. "You know what, she's a lose cannon with a gun," Ecklie said with that usual arrogant look in his face. "And she's all yours." Then Ecklie left, looking smug and triumphant, leaving the two supervisors in the room fraught with tension._

_Grissom looked at Catherine, making her squirm uneasily in her seat though she held her ground and refused to look away. She had done nothing wrong, she knew, as her piercing blue eyes looked right into his equally piercing blue eyes, but he was looking right at her as if it was all her fault._

_He gave her one last cold look before turning and walking away without a word._

She bit her bottom lip. How could she forget that day? Her mind flashed into another scene, long after that ordeal with Sara…

"_Gil, it was an act of omission…" she hated that there was desperation in her voice._

"_How many times have we heard a public defender say that?"_

"_I went out after work," she said, the desperation still laced with her words. "Is it a crime to want to have a little human contact?_

"_I guess that's why I don't go out," he said to her with one small glance before walking away from her._

She slammed her clenched fist on the wheel, barely feeling the pain of the impact. She brushed her tears away, forcing herself to focus her mind on the road: she didn't want to be the next crime scene for the day. She had it bad enough already, dying, though at the moment of her sad state she wouldn't have minded, was not at option.

She hit the pedal of the Denali, pushing it slightly above the high way speed limits, daring the forces to have a police car pull her over. She made it home, relatively sooner than usual. She sat behind the wheel, her tears gone, her eyes red and her pale porcelain skin tinted with a slight shade of pink and she stared hard at her own home, hating how it looked at the moment.

It wasn't big, she never thought it was, but in her sad state, she saw it tower over her as if mocking her and taunting her about coming home to an empty house. She roughly pulled her key out, looking at the house with defiance and she grabbed her purse and went in without hesitation.

The moment she neared her front door, she promised herself to push everything about that night out of her already tired mind.

The lights were off as she turned off the house alarm, grudgingly so. She dumped her purse on the couch as she pulled off her black blazer, dumping it right over her purse. She grabbed her mobile phone, putting it into silent mode just in case something---something un-Grissom related---came up and slid it back into her pocket. She needed a screwdriver, she needed it badly.

She went straight for the kitchen, heading for the fridge and grabbing everything she needed for what would be a long night. A lemon, orange juice and Absolut Vodka and a glass: her friend for the night. _Best Friend_.

She made the drink fast, needing it badly. She dipped her finger in, tasting it as she always did and sighed, almost with relief as she felt the cool drink slide down her parched throat after taking a large swig. She grabbed her drink, leaving the ingredients on the table, knowing she would be back soon for another, then another then another…then another.

She needed enough to help her stick to her promise.

She went up to her room and glared at her bed, hating that it was so impeccably made with the sheets tucked to the sides and the pillows neatly arranged. She didn't remember making her bed, hell, she didn't know when she last made her bed like that. She knew: her mother. She hated that her mother had been through her room again, hating that even at her age Lilly would still insist on doing the same things she used to before Catherine left home for Vegas in pursue of her foolish dream to be famous.

But in the middle of her bed she noticed a paper, white so it almost blended with the pristine—her mother's—white sheets. She hated white sheets. She hated how it always reminded her of hospitals, dead people and the dead bodies in the morgue with Doctor Al. And she always saw whether there would be traces of human excretion left—not that she'd have them on her bed these days, she was too buried in work to play, not even by herself.

She picked up the paper and realized it was a picture of her, standing backed in a darkened scene, seemingly lit by what she assumed as headlights or spotlights. She saw the yellow crime scene tape behind her. She had on her CSI vest, black against her white blouse and her fitting black jeans and her usual shoes. On the ground lay a dead body, partially blocked by David the coroner, leaning over the body, possibly taking the liver temperature. She didn't remember ever seeing a picture of her like that and she didn't know who would take such picture. Crime scenes were always about the body, the scene, the blood and the gore, eveidence.

Not the CSI or the coroner.

She almost found it eerie that the shot of her was full body, showing all of her as if she was the intended subject. She shrugged, berating herself mentally for being too paranoid. She dropped the picture back onto the bed, facing up. She put her drink down, and turned to the direction of her closet to change.

She almost gasped when she saw a man, standing in front of her closet, blocking her way.

"Hello, Catherine Willows," he said, she could here his smirk as he stood, his face hidden by the shadows. "I've been waiting for you."

She stood, trying her damnest not to appear fazed by the stranger. "Who are you? What the hell are you doing in **my** home?"

"I know you, Catherine, I know you very well," he said, she saw him take a small step forward and she took a step back, making a grab for her gun, but realized she left it in the lab as she always did. She heard him chuckle. "Tsk, tsk, Cath, you left it in the lab, remember? You always did, fearing Lindsey might find it and hurt herself here at home."

She stared at him, now her fear reflected in her blue eyes. "Whatever you want, just take it…Get out of my house and leave with no problems."

"Tsk, tsk," he said again, taking another step forward, she backed off until she felt the bed press against her legs. "You see, I don't want anything here…I want you."

He said it like it was something you'd do everyday, something so normal, so easy and it unnerved her.

"Get the hell out of here!" she snapped, reaching for her mobile phone.

He lunged at her, falling with all his weight on her as they fell to her bed. He pushed his weight on her, pinning her like a trapped butterfly. "No, no, that's not part of our game."

"Get off me!" she screamed, struggling vainly, pushing him off her body. "Get off me!" she screamed again as he pulled her hands out, pinning them over her head.

"No, Cath," he said softly. "No, it's okay, you're okay…shush." He gripped her wrist painfully, forcing her to let go of her mobile phone. He shoved it aside and far from her reach. "Shush, my Catherine, I won't hurt you."

"Get off!" she screamed, louder this time. "Help me! Somebody! Help!"

"No one can hear," he said, sounding almost gleeful. "You see, they're too far, your neighbors. You picked a very nice spot for your home, spatial, wide…isolated."

She bit her bottom lip, knowing he was indeed right.

"Now," he said, his hand trapping bother her wrists as the other made it's way down to rest on her neck, his face inches away from hers. He was so close, so close that she could feel his breath against her face. "Do you promise to behave?"

She didn't say anything as his fingers slipped between the buttons of her white blouse, popping them off in one easy motion. She's frozen suddenly as he dives into her chest and places a kiss on top of where her heart lay. And then she's back to the present, silently screaming at herself for the moment's weakness and shock she didn't know she was capable of in a situation like this.

"You're beautiful, don't you know that?" he said, his hand on her right breast.

His touch sends a jolt of electricity in her body and suddenly she starts to struggle underneath him. She bucks her body against his, throwing him off and bolting from her bed. She made a dash to the door and ran, ran down the hall and away from him.

"Catherine!" he calls after her, his steps thundering loud as he raced after her.

"Get away from me!" she screams as she runs to the top of the stairs, contemplating the risks of taking that route. But she doesn't have any other choice so she runs faster.

"No! You'll hurt yourself! Stop!" she thought she's lost her mind at the thought that the psycho running after her might actually love and care for her. God, this was getting twisted.

She landed in the bottom of the steps, hearing him so close to her, spurring her to go faster. She turned, heading for the front door, but suddenly it all changed.

She tripped and fell face first.

"My Catherine," he cooed as he reached her, out of breath and breathing erratically from the chase.

She lay, moaning as he turned her over, cradling her head in his lap. She could actually see concern in his face. "Who are you?" she managed to say in the wave of dizziness that engulfed her.

He shook his head. "I told you to be a good girl, but you wouldn't listen…" he pulled out a gun and her eyes grew wide. "My Catherine…"

She slammed her fist on the side of his head, knocking to the side and away from her. She wondered for a fleeting moment if this was some bad dream, sick and twisted. She wondered who the man was, the stranger, the…who was he talk her My Catherine?

She heard him let out a scream of frustration. She was still a little dazed from her dive to the floor so all she could do was crawl away. She felt her forehead start to throb and realized she had a cut, a concussion. "Get away from me!" she managed to scream.

"You never listen!" he screamed, his boot clad foot connecting with her stomach.

She gasped as she felt the sharp pain shoot through her, knocking her back to the ground. She was gasping for breath when he straddled her hips once more and pinned her down the second time since everything began. "Help…" she choked out. "Help me, Gil…"

He shook his head. "Gil? Don't you know? He doesn't care about you... I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but it seems I have to. He's with Sara now and he loves her. He rather wants to be with her than you with him. He's gone and left you, Catherine, I'm sorry if this hurts you, losing your besy friend…"

She shook her head and looked at him with hate. She let out an animal cry, a growl and her hands attacked him, clawing and scratching, pulling and grabbing. She scratched his face, thinking that if they were to find her dead body, at least they'd get some epithelial samples from her nails. Her CSI mind was working, trying to save herself, help herself since no one else was going to or could. She pulled his hair hard, taking hairs and skin tags. She slammed her fist against the side of his jaw and saw for a brief moment, bloody and saliva shoot from his mouth to the air and most likely to the floors of her home.

She worked like a mad woman, screaming and fighting with every bit of her broken being.


	3. Chapter 3

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: I am in no way nor form associated with anyone from CBS or CSI or Alliance or anyone pertaining to the successful hit show that is CSI: Crime Scene Investigations. I don't own any of the known characters however if one unknown character should arise it would be safe to say that he/she is a product of this writer's imagination **I hope you all know how much I appreciate the positive comments and feedback that have been posted. I must apologize for taking so long to update, I have been busy with college, unfortunately, but I'm here now and I hope you will be pleased by this latest piece.**

Note: Living Doll and Dead Doll...in this piece, it never happened… That was devastating I must say and it was even more devastating to me when…well, when GSR came fully into the picture. Like a hit right in the gut. I'm sorry to the GSR fans, but I am really Grillows. I hope I don't offend anyone along the way as this fiction piece progresses and with this note as well.

Thanks once again for the comments! Loves and Hugs to all Mugs fans. Err, I mean to say Grillows and Catherine fans, but I thought that would sound nice. "Hugs and Mugs."... i'm such a Loser, I know.

Chapter Three: Defeat and Anger

She fought hard, clawing and pulling and grabbing. She didn't know, didn't want to think about this as her last moment. She knew death was inevitable, she dealt with it everyday of her life, but she never realized it would be _this_ early for her. She had so many things left to do, to see. And there was Lindsey, her teenage daughter. Should die, she would never see her in college, see her dance once again, see her fall in love, get married…Nothing.

She breathed out a prayer of thanks, thankful that Lindsey wasn't around for this, knowing that she would be in harm's way if she had been here. She could get hurt, even die and Catherine would never let that happen. She would rather die, leave Lindsey go on without her than have her die at such young age when she still had so much to do, so much to see and so much to feel and experience.

"Let me go!" she screamed as she pulled his jet black hair. This may be her very last moment and she never wanted to end like this, but she knew this was it for her.

If she didn't die now, she knew it wouldn't be too far. She had seen his face, he let her, and she'd heard his voice and completely exposed himself to her. He wasn't planning on letting her go alive.

There weren't many key witnesses that lived.

And Catherine was exactly that, a victim, and a witness, should this end, but she would be dead, she knew. She was the risk he had decided to take and she saw in his eyes the look of determination. Now, all she wanted was to prove to everyone she had been strong even as she faced death.

She clawed at him and felt the skin on his cheek tear underneath her French tipped nails. This was her proof, should she die. When the time would come for Doctor Al and David to examine her, they would know she had fought hard and well and she would bear the proof underneath her nails and on her body. They would know she died fighting, not cowering like a helpless, submissive prey. She was going to prove to them she was not a quitter. She would fight as she always had through her life.

He grabbed her wrists with a grunt and squeezed hard. She gasped and let out a cry at the pain and at the throbbing in her abdomen where his kick had landed. He snarled and dragged her wrists up over her head once again and pinned her down. _Little butterfly, so beautiful, so perfect…Little butterfly, so helpless, so weak, lying trapped and there's no way out...Don't cry butterfly, little butterfly, so beautiful, but trapped. Isn't it sad for such beauty to end in such tragedy?_

"I'm done being nice," he snarled, letting go of her wrist and slamming the back of his hand against her cheek full force.

Her head snapped to the side and she tasted the metallic taste of blood, bitter against her tongue and it filled her mouth. She spat out blood, letting them land on the wooden floors beside her. She moaned as her head began to spin on impact. "Oh, god…"

She felt him shuffle on top of her, allowing her hands to go to her head as she tried to get her eyes to focus on her spinning surrounding. She moaned as he pulled something slim and long from his jacket pocket. "It didn't have to come to this…" she heard him say. She looked up in time to see a syringe plunge her way, stabbing into her shoulder, biting into her skin.

"No…" she moaned as she felt the instant effects of the liquid he had struck into her. "No—No…Please, Gil…he-help me…" she said, feeling weak and light headed, realizing that the drug, whatever it was, was working rapidly and she had lost her chance.

She was as good as dead, she knew, her eyes defeating her in her fight to stay awake. Her eyes closed slowly, her body relaxed and heavy but she uttered one last thing before the world and the light disappeared behind her closing lids. "Gil…"

Grissom walked into the lab as usual with more time to spare before the rest of the graveyard shift, his team, was scheduled to come in. He passed by Catherine's office, finding it empty. He almost stopped but he felt everyone's stares around him, confirming his suspicions.

Everyone in the lab knew about him and Catherine…and Sara.

He sighed and went on to his office; he didn't need to add fuel to the flooding rumors. Dayshift had done their share of gossip and now he was left wondering if his team already knew. He hoped not though at the same time he hoped so. He hated his situation with Sara and hated it even more after that incident with Catherine. For once in a long time, Gilbert Grissom was lost and had no clue whatsoever on what to do.

How was he supposed to face her? ---Both Catherine and Sara.

He slipped into his office and tossed his things aside—something he didn't normally do. He knew that there was only one thing he could do, something he knew and everyone around him knew he was really good at. Think.

He sat down, his mind drifting and his blue eyes slipping close and his head thrown back. He needed to think hard about everything. Things, images drifted in and out of his mind, thoughts of Sara, of Catherine, even of Lindsey wove through him like am open sea, threatening to swallow him whole.

He closed his blue eyes only to see Catherine's blue eyes staring back at him with tears streaming down her pale cheeks. _"Goodbye, Grissom,"_ she said, her eyes conveying the sadness and the betrayal she felt but tried not to show. She gave him one last, sad look before turning away. He was about to call her back…

Then the door thundered open and there stood Sara Sidle herself.

His eyes opened immediately, the image of a broken Catherine Willows disappearing from his mind. He turned to look at his love, preparing to say a greeting and maybe earn himself a much needed comfort after Catherine and what happened. But the look in her eyes, cold and hard stopped him from saying anything. Instead, he stared at her mutely, waiting and waiting for whatever she may have in store for him this time.

And then he knew right there that she knew about last shift.

About Catherine. Oh boy.

He chided himself mentally for such a silly use of words, even in thoughts. God, he was losing his grip. He gave her an inquiring look before motioning for her to take a seat, the seat in front of his desk.

She gave him what would be a withering look; he would have reacted if he weren't use to it since she started working there. So typically Sara, he mused. "I've been hearing some…stuff around the lab."

He nodded. "About what?" He wasn't used to playing dumb but he knew that often came in handy.

"Catherine," she said, her voice barely veiling the venom she so obviously wanted to spit out. He inwardly applauded her sense to control herself, well, her _trying_ to control herself. "And you and last night. You went home late and you told me you were busy…"

"I was busy," he said plainly. He knew how jealous Sara could be especially of Catherine and yet he knew he couldn't blame the younger woman. He and Catherine had known each other longer than anyone, she knew him, he thought, better than he knew himself.

It wasn't Catherine's fault either if she knew and cared about him that much after twenty something years of friendship.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah? Busy what? Talking about poor lonely Catherine? What, did she cry and scream out her feelings for you? Did she bawl like a heartbroken teenager who got dumped? What?" She crossed her arms in front of her. "Tell me I'm simply _dying_ to know."

He sighed inwardly and decided to let her sarcasm slide. "We talked, Sara, and it didn't involve her feelings for me if she even has any at the moment. We talked and she knows about us."

"I know she cried," Sara said with a look of triumph that did not suit her. "What happened? Did she ask you to pick her over me?"

"Catherine wouldn't do that," Grissom said, feeling the need to protect the woman he's cared for before Sara came to the picture. "She wouldn't do that, Sara, especially not to you and you know it."

Sara snorted in a very unladylike but so Sara-like manner. "Are we talking about the same woman here, Gil? Because the last time I checked, I was talking about the Catherine Willows, ex-stripper and single mom who made out with a stranger who turned out to be a murder suspect…"

"You cannot hold her responsible for that," Grissom said forcefully. "And what job Catherine may have had before this is not relevant. It was a job, Sara, and she did it yes, but she's a damn good CSI and she's earned the respect of everyone, including yours."

"Oh come off it!" Sara snapped, losing a bit of her composure. "Adam Novak? You said so yourself she was being stupid and irresponsible! Act of omission my ass! That's total bullshit!"

"I think what happens between me and Catherine with regards to dealing with her errors on the job does not concern you, Sara, remember she is also your superior," he said with his words curt and clipped.

Sara looked at him in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me! You're pulling ranks on _**me**_?"

He shook his head, slipping his glasses off as he felt a wave of migraine start to throb its way into his head. "Sara…"

Sara shot up from her seat. "No! What the hell went on with you two? The whole freaking lab is talking about it and _**I**_ didn't even know about it! How long were you going to wait before telling me, huh? What the hell, Gil? We were so okay until last night!"

"Sit down and lower your voice, Sara," Gil said coolly, but warning was evident in his voice and in his eyes. He knew one of them needed to be able to hold on before a screaming match should erupt unceremoniously.

"No way. Damn no," She shook her head. "What is it with her anyway? All this time since I transferred and after years of waiting for you I still always end up second to your precious Catherine! I worry, I take care of you, talk to you and I'm there for you but it's always her! What the hell!"

"Sara, calm down," Grissom said, glaring at her lack of control and trust. "You know your place with me and you know I care a lot about you."

"Care? Care, you _care_ about me?" she said, plopping herself to sit again. "You care about me, but when you came home you said you love me. I can't believe this, one minute I'm here, the next Catherine is there and then I'm off…and whatever worth I had in your eyes is completely gone just cause she drifted by!" She glared at him. "What do you take me for, Gil, A stupid love-struck teenager like Catherine? You think you can just string me around because she finally caves when I finally have you? Is she _that_ good in bed? Huh, Gil?"

Grissom shook his head. "Sara, nothing like that happened or is happening…Catherine found out, okay? She found out and she was upset that I didn't tell her. That's all."

"She's jealous, isn't she?" Sara said with that same look of triumph on her face that he was starting to despise. "I'm not blind, Gil, and I know she's felt something for you long before anyone took notice…"

"That's not true, she's a good friend and that's all we've ever been. Stop drawing your own conclusions without any evidence."

"Either your blind, in denial or really just clueless," she said with a hateful look. "Everyone in this damn place knows she's always got something for you especially after Eddie. Why do you think she stayed even after Sam died when she got everything Sam left her and Lindsey? You know as well as I do Sam loved her and left her everything and she does not need this job anymore. She's the last Braun left and you know that, Gil, but you won't admit she's here because of you."

Grissom shook his head. "Sara, you have no idea how way off base you are right now."

"_**I'm**_ off base?" Sara said incredulously. "Please! Whatever she's done, Gil, after twenty years she's still that same red-head stripper from the French Palace! You know what Jimmy Tadero said? She was two steps away from turning tricks, you're precious Catherine isn't as innocent as you always wanted to think, Gil, but you know what they say, right? You can take the girl out of the joint but you can't take the joint out of the girl! Once a whore…"

Grissom bolted from his seat, his hands slamming against the surface of his desk and his glaring eyes leveled with Sara's glaring eyes. "That's enough Sara!"

He saw her flinch and almost take a step back. He never raised his voice at her, but she'd provoked him into doing so. She opened her mouth to say something, to retaliate maybe but suddenly the door opened again, revealing a serious looking Jim Brass.

"Grissom? Sara?" Jim said, looking at the glaring couple and he felt the choking tension in the room. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we've got a problem." His eyes darted from his old friend then to the spitfire that was Sara. "It's important, it can't wait."

Grissom took a deep breath before walking over to Jim without a word to Sara. "What is it?"

"Come with me," Jim said almost sounding cryptic. "Break room now, you too Sara."


	4. Chapter 4

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: I am in no way nor form associated with anyone from CBS or CSI or Alliance or anyone pertaining to the successful hit show that is CSI: Crime Scene Investigations. I am not Anthony Zuiker and I will never be him though it would be quite lovely to be as good as him. He's made a damn good show, don't you think? Not my property and never will be.

Note: This fiction piece was not and is not intended to make the character Sara Sidle look bad. I think she's a damn good character and she adds just as much as anyone in the cast, but it just helped with the drama. And besides, I liked Catherine first. And Grillows a.k.a. PureJoy.

Thank you so much for the comments. It's driven me to work faster before my exams on the 13th.

Chapter Four: Priority Case

The trio walked in single file, feeling everyone's veiled stares as they passed. Gil Grissom's office was obviously not sound proof and they knew everyone else had heard their little "misunderstanding". Grissom found himself shooting glares at the lab techs he caught gawking. He knew he had successfully fed gas to the fires of gossip. He was trapped.

"We'll finish this later," Grissom muttered to Sara as Jim went into the break room where the rest of the team waited. Greg, Warrick and Nick sat around the table, waiting to be handed out their assignments that night. The three immediately lowered their eyes the moment Sara and Grissom came in. They clearly did not want to be a part of the little show.

"I got a call tonight and…" Jim began but Greg raised his hand.

"Aren't we waiting for Cath?" If looks could kill the young CSI would have withered away and died in an instant as Warrick and Nick turned to him.

Jim looked uncomfortable. "I'll get to that…Just a few minutes ago we got a call from Lily Flynn…"

"Wait, isn't that Cath's…" Greg began.

Jim nodded. "Mother, yes, and she's out of town. She said she's been trying to reach Catherine since this morning but couldn't, she's been trying since this morning and Lindsey is at a friend's house for the weekend, she doesn't know. We called her and checked on her and yes, she's okay…"

"What about Catherine?" Warrick asked, his face clouded with worry. He observed the always together captain move uneasily. Something was not right.

"We sent two uniforms to check and found no response, the Denali, hers, was parked out front, her doors were locked and nothing seemed out of place…"

"What about Catherine?" Nick asked. "She's okay, right? Just sick so she's not in tonight…"

Jim looked at him for a second before turning away. "They couldn't find her…"

"What?" Nick and Greg said at the same time, their voices higher than the other.

"The officers found drops of blood in the living room and called it in," Jim said, his face unusually stonier than usual. "The call came in just now and you guys are on shift, but Ecklie…"

"Does not have the right into this case," Grissom said, speaking for the first time since coming in. His face was cold and impassive as he looked at Jim. "The call came in our shift and we will process this and we will handle this. Not Ecklie, no Ecklie. He doesn't touch the evidence, doesn't breathe on it or come near within ten feet of it."

"Griss," Jim began but his friend shook his head.

"I don't give a shit, we're handling this case and that's final. If he has a problem, let him come to me and I'll deal with him," Grissom said with more authority anyone ever heard from him. He turned to Greg and Nick "Greg, Nick, I want you in that house---collect everything, blood, epithelial evidence, hair, fiber, prints---everything from top to bottom. I want all possible evidence here and I want it all to be top priority, whatever case we might have pass it to swing or dayshift. No one let's this case go until we find out what's going on."

Nick and Greg nodded. "We're on it."

"Warrick," Grissom said, turning to the African-American who wore a mask of worry and confusion. "Process the perimeter, the garage, the Denali or whatever you might find outside."

Without a word, Warrick left the room, his face cold and grim with determination.

"Jim, call Lindsey, but don't worry her. I want to see the evidence before we raise alarm," Grissom said to the Detective. "Let her stay with her friends for now, she's safer there and call Lily and see if she's reached Catherine or not."

"What about you?" Jim asked. "And Ecklie?"

"I'm heading to the house," Grissom said as he started to leave the room. "And Ecklie can raise hell for all I care, we need to find Catherine **we** will find her."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Sara said, her voice smaller than before, sounding a little unsure.

Grissom turned to her. "I—I don't…Process the scene with the rest, do what you can or help Warrick. I don't know…I'll see you."

Sara looked at him, her eyes both sad and hurt before turning away and heading out.

Grissom shook his head as he watched her walk away.

"You okay?" Jim asked in a low voice.

"I'm fine…" he said, his hand running through his salt and pepper shaded curls. "I—I just…Cath—she should be…Catherine should…"

Jim nodded, seeing how lost his old friend was. He couldn't believe that for the first time he saw doubt, anxiety and even fear among other things appear in his blue eyes. Jim confirmed then, as he had always suspected, that his friend did feel more than he let on towards Catherine. He suddenly felt sorry for his friend who was clearly suffering. "I know. She'll be okay, Gil. She'll…"

Grissom looked at him, steeling himself, his face turning impassive and emotionless. "We have no time to waste, Jim. If something's wrong then we need to work hard and fast if possible."

Jim nodded, seeing the mask Gil Grissom had put on so suddenly. "I'll make some calls."

Nick pulled the Denali over across the road and got out. Wordlessly, he, Greg and to his surprise earlier, Sara retrieved their kits from the back. They crossed the road and were met by Detective Vartann who looked unusually grim, which didn't surprise Nick who was aware of the detective's flirtations with the missing CSI.

"I was told you guys were handling this one," Vartann said, looking back at the house.

"Yeah, no way we're letting this go," Nick answered for his group. Sara was quiet and cold while Greg seemed to have slipped into a melancholy state since finding about Catherine. Nick had understood the younger man's reaction since it had been Catherine who trained him well. She was a good supervisor.

Vartann nodded and lead them to the house, slipping into the yellow police crime scene tapes. "The first officers on the scene are there waiting, there's blood in the living room and signs of possible struggle were present, but not much. Just the small blood puddle, drops and the disturbances are minimal. But you guys can confirm that."

"What about upstairs?" Nick asked as they entered the house.

"They're waiting for you to check it, no one went up," the detective said, now standing in the living room. Blood was minimal but it was there along with smudges and possible fibers.

"I'll take the room upstairs," Nick said to Greg and Sara. "You two okay down here?"

Sara nodded. "I'll process with Greg and document the scene."

Nick nodded and left with Vartann, both talking in low tones as they walked away. Greg turned to the small puddle of blood, around were spatters not far. The puddle was smudged, leaving a possible print on the floor. "Blood not enough to be threatening or fatal. Catherine's?" he started to tae pictures of the scene while Sara bent down to the blood.

Sara nodded. "Maybe, but if that's hers then that's not such a bad thing. It means she's not dead or seriously hurt." She too a swab from the puddle then stopped. "Possible palm print with partials of the fingers…" she stared at the blood. "Looks like a slip, you know, a hand trying to get leverage then it slips." Greg took a picture with the scene marker.

"Maybe we can run it through the database," Greg said hopefully. "Maybe she had an accident and slipped, you know…"

Sara looked at the bloody print. "Palm looks too big to be Catherine's"

Greg's face fell. "Oh…" he looked to the side and too out his tweezers. "I think I've got hairs here," he said as he tweezed a fiber near the blood. "Skin tags and I've got a lot," he looked at Sara, thinking what she was thinking, their minds practically synchronized as they processed the evidence mentally.

Sara looked at the strand. "Black, skin tags present and…it was pulled out," she said, frowning. "Sign of struggle? She must have pulled them off and there are a lot so she worked hard for them…"

"She was fighting, she wasn't going without a fight," Greg said as he slipped the fibers into a small evidence paper bag. "That's Cat all right." He smiled faintly as he thought of the spitfire that was his boss. "She's too tough."

Sara nodded. "She fought whoever was here. Keep going, we need to find out if all this blood is Catherine's, if she fought then there's a good chance she got a good hit at the perp too."

Grissom headed into the house, his heart beating fast against his ribs. He could almost feel the void, the emptiness of the house knowing that Catherine wasn't there. He nodded to the officers as he passed, not waiting or looking for anyone as he continued to make his way into the house.

He came in and realized how much the place had changed. The decorations were different now and the pictures that hung on the walls were gone. He felt a twist in his stomach as he fought the emptiness he felt as he saw the bare wall where a picture of Catherine, him and a seven year-old Lindsey used to be along with the other family pictures Catherine had loved. _"Almost like goin' home to your real family. You come in and see them immediately that you just have to smile…"_ he remembered her saying that about the wall of pictures and memories.

Now it was gone.

Why?

"Griss," Greg said, his kit in hand with Sara following behind him. "We're going back to the lab. You took a while so we decided to go ahead."

Grissom nodded. "Did you get anything?"

Greg looked down. "Yeah, blood, hairs with skin tags, a piece of torn cloth….and a syringe." He looked down at his collection. "There's a bit really. That's a good thing, maybe the guy was too sloppy to notice what he was leaving behind."

"Or Catherine fought hard," Sara said in a normal voice which surprised Grissom

"Other signs of struggle? Other than the blood and torn cloth?" Grissom asked, looking at Sara who was looking around, avoiding his eyes.

"We got smudges of blood with a possible palm print, uh, a disturbance in the rug where I almost tripped though that might not add much and well, just a few stuff knocked down by the stairs," Sara said. "But we're sure she fought. The skin tags proved she pulled them out."

"All right, process it and if anyone tries to stop you like Ecklie tell him I gave explicit orders and keep going and have them call me," Grissom said. "Examine the blood and the palm ASAP and give the syringe to tox for a full panel."

Greg and Sara nodded. "Nick's still upstairs. We'll grab a patrol car because we rode with him. We want to get the processing started as soon as possible which is now."

Grissom nodded. "I'll see you later. Put everything in top priority and rush. If possible Greg I'd like you to work at it with Wendy, you know your capabilities and we need you on this. For Catherine."

Greg nodded. "I'll do it. Of course I will."

The two left, but not before Sara gave Grissom a vacant look before going ahead and following Greg with an officer. Grissom shook his head and went in. He looked around the living room, trying to imagine what had taken place, but couldn't.

The place was too bare for him aside from the small portion of blood and there were some things that seemed out of place, but other than that nothing else was off. He mused that if it hadn't been for the blood then no one would have thought something was seriously wrong.

He proceeded up the stairs and fond Nick in the bed room that was obviously Catherine's. Nick looked up as he went through her clothes. "I think this place was untouched. The bed is messy but it might as well be Cath's doing. There's no semen, no blood. Nothing except her cell phone which could have been left here earlier before the attack. Maybe it all happened downstairs."

Grissom looked around the room. Her shoes for work lay by the bed. "She was here."

Nick looked at him.

"The shoes, her shoes are positioned as if she just slid them off and left them there," he said, nodding towards the black boots. "She was here."

Nick nodded and looked over at the bed. "The bed bothers me…"

Grissom looked at Nick with an odd look.

"No, not like that," Nick said. "I mean, the sheets are twisted and…it looks odd. I know what an unmade bed is but I can't be sure…"

"Jimmy Tadero once taught Catherine that if something doesn't feel right, it probably isn't, she believed that and she's proved him right before. One time she proved it right landed him in jail," Grissom said. "She was here and…I think this is where it started too."

Nick walked around the bed and with his latex gloves he pulled out an earring. "She was wearing these last night," he said, showing a gold hoop earring. "Maybe she…"

"Was having a drink," Grissom said, noticing the yellow mix on the bedside table. "A screwdriver, I assume. She was here…"

Nick looked at Grissom. "Now how the hell did I miss that?"

Grissom shook his head. "You were looking at the other side of the room. I don't expect you to have eyes in the back of your head."

"You guys process the blood yet?" Sara said as she came in to the lab where Wendy and Greg sat processing.

"Remember we found blood on the floors? We had two to work on but since it was blood we really couldn't tell if it was all Cat or not." Greg handed her a results sheet. "First one we processed was Catherine's and we found traces of saliva with her blood…"

"What?" Sara said, shuffling through her file. She pulled out pictures. "Blood and saliva from the spatter and it's all hers." She looked at the pictures. "Look at this." Wendy and Greg leaned in to see what she was pointing. "The blood, the spatter, it's consistent with a horizontal spray…she could have been lying down."

Greg nodded, seeing he scene as his mind conjured up images. "And he hit her so…the force was enough to draw blood and she spat it out…a clue?"

Sara nodded. "She wasn't going down without a fight." She looked at the file. "Process the rest of the DNA. Catherine might have left us something else."

Just then the machine beeped and another results sheet appeared. Wendy picked it up and read. "You found traces of saliva and blood too and it's an unknown male. Maybe she hit him back and made him spittle or something."

Sara looked at Greg and nodded. "I'll go see what Jacqui got from the print."

The brunette headed out, determined to find something from what they collected. She and the strawberry blonde may not have always connected, save for some moments they shared sometimes, but she knew well enough that even in the most distressing events, the blonde was capable of putting her CSI mid into the works. She was sure Catherine left something more than blood, hair and saliva. She would get the prints and whoever had Catherine.

Grissom and Nick looked around the room. "There's nothing much here," the supervisor said. "Except that all the physical evidence we found say that it started here."

Nick nodded. "Let's see…" he turned to the doorway, imagining Catherine there. "She comes in, a drink in hand then…what? She slips her earrings off and makes her way to set her drink down…slips off her shoes and…then what?"

Grissom looked at the spot where her shoes had been.

By the bed.

His mind began working. "She's just had a long day, long shift. She wants to unwind and relax, get some sleep since Lindsey isn't here for her to worry about."

He turned, already seeing a shoeless Catherine standing not far from him and Nick, the younger CSI's mind was conjuring up the same image. "She turns to the closet then what?"

They both see Catherine turn to the closet.

"No shirt, no jeans, not even socks," Nick said, looking around the room. He walked over to the closet doors. "And I don't see any rack of clothing disturbed here. It's like she didn't even touch anything here, which might mean she didn't go in or wasn't able to."

Grissom went into the bathroom, his senses immediately assaulted by the scents of the bathroom. Women's scent, he knew from the bottles of perfume, powder, lotion and powders on the vanity that made the bathroom smell somewhat sweeter. He wished he didn't have to go in, not because he didn't want to violate her privacy but because it simply reminded him too much of her. It was all too Catherine. "No signs of the clothes she wore last night here."

Nick nodded. "She's still wearing her clothes from last night then. He didn't give her the chance to change." He watched Catherine moved in front of the closet. "Maybe he waited for her." He watched, imagining a figure waiting in the closet, in the dark recesses, waiting for his moment.

The conjured image of Catherine Willows that both men had made in their minds stood in front of the closet doors, opening them, unsuspecting. Then a figure leapt out, trapping her, holding her into his grip. The Catherine they imagined struggled and fought, making them both fall onto the bed.

"Then what happens?" Nick asked, snapping Grissom out of his trance as he imagined what could have transpired hours before.

"She fought him hard," Grissom said, his eyes watching as Catherine fought back. He looked around. "The cell phone…What about the cell phone? Where did you find it?"

Nick walked over to the side of the bed and pointed a few inches away from a pillow. "Right about here. I was planning on checking the records at the lab tonight."

"Let me see it," Grissom said, the image of Catherine with her predator disappearing. Wordlessly he took the bagged cell phone from the CSI. "I want to see who she called last. If she called 911 then we've got a time frame." He scanned her cell phone. "We've got voicemails from Lily and Brass; they said they tried contacting her."

"Who did she call last?" Nick asked. "911?"

The supervisor looked at what the screen before him bore, staring, not believing what he was reading.

"Griss?"

Grissom looked at him. "The last call she tried to make..." He looked at the screen and the time records. "She tried to call me."


	5. Chapter 5

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: No relation whatsoever with anyone from CBS or Alliance or the show. Nothing.

Note: Thank you so much for the comments! I really appreciate them. I wish not to offend anyone with this chapter or anything from my work. I love Cath and Gil and Grillows so whatever you read here…please don't take it like I hate anyone from the show. I don't normally hate.

Connections made: there was this episode when Catherine went with Sam Braun to an opening of his Casino in Reno, right? Well I made a connection here. You made find other connections in my work and I'm sure you'll find them so, just telling you now. I took some parts of some episodes, that mush is clear. Don't sue me.

Chapter Five: Hope and a Match

She felt the fog clearing, like a veil was being lifted from her eyes. She tried to open her them once, failed, and then twice, moaning as she felt her head spin then stop into a light high. She rubbed her eyes and sat up from a very soft bed, wondering where she was. She looked down and saw a powdered blue satin sheet tossed over her body and confirmed she wasn't on her own bed.

She was on a king sized mahogany four poster bed, blue satin sheets matching the pillows and the bed, feeling quite luxurious underneath her. She looked around, finding herself in a bare room; save for the bed she was on, a chair on the side, telling her that someone might have been watching her. She shrugged off the eerie feeling and tried to remember how and when she got there. The last thing she remembered…

She was getting home, crying her eyes out from her fight with Grissom.

She wracked her brain. She knew she was missing something. She didn't know what but she was sure something else happened. She looked around, trying to see if she could familiarize with the room. She wasn't in a hotel, she was sure, but the sheets, the soft bed and the luxurious pillows were a sign she wasn't anywhere cheap or dingy.

She looked down at herself and saw she was still wearing the same clothes she wore from her last shift except for her shoes. She remembered slipping them off then nothing.

At least she was sure she didn't sleep with anyone or…

She didn't want to think about that. The last time she woke up somewhere she wasn't familiar with…

She didn't want to think about that too.

She threw her legs onto the side of the large bed, tried to stand, but the moment she did her head began to spin, forcing her to sit back down with her head in her hands. The dizzying sensations made her sit still for a moment, a slight humming and thumping came, making her shut her eyes tight and grimace.

She heard movement and her eyes shot to the door, feeling someone approaching, her senses in overdrive, aware of everything around her despite the fog she recently emerged from and the dizzying sensations she was going through. She braced herself, waiting for the worst, preparing her body to fight if she had to.

In the back of her mind, amidst the lapses and the tangles, she knew she wasn't safe. She knew something wasn't right: she was in danger.

Grissom looked at Nick who stared at him blankly. He didn't know what to think. He had his phone on, as always, but he never heard it ring for a call, not from Catherine, not from anyone. He looked at the screen with "Gil Grissom" written in bold letters, as if screaming at him for missing the call.

"She called you?" Nick asked. "What time?"

Grissom checked the phone logs. "A little after shift ended…" he calculated in his mind how long it would have taken for Catherine to get home, in her distraught state, and web through whatever obstacle may have gone on along the way to her house.

"Did you answer?" Nick asked.

"That's the thing," Grissom said, perplexed. "I never got any calls from her…I was still at the lab working at this time…I never let the phone out of my sight, but I'm sure I would have heard it, but I got nothing…Not even a notice of a missed call."

"She might not have been able to complete the call," Nick said grimly. "She must have dialed, but the call didn't get to connect." He saw the image of Catherine with her attacker again. "She's struggling to get free, grabs for her phone…"

Grissom looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. "She…pressed speed dial? Or maybe went to the last logged call, she must have called me last…"

Nick nodded his features hardening at what was coming. "She's got her phone, him probably trying to subdue her…then maybe he caught the phone and…"

"Stopped her from even completing the call," Grissom said, nodding. "I was last to see her at the lab, I was the last call she tried to make…where does that put us?"

"She couldn't call 911 so she called you," Nick said. "We'll do what we always do, we process the scene and collect evidence, catch the bad guy and beat him up if we get the chance and we'll get Catherine back safe and sound…"

"If only it's as simple as that," Grissom said solemnly, unable to get the image of Catherine being attacked on her bed by a stranger.

Nick shook his head. "She's fine, I know she is…"

Grissom nodded, allowing himself for a moment to actually believe the younger CSI, believing that soon, they will find Catherine and see that she was okay, untouched and ready to get back to work. Be the same Catherine they all knew. He let himself hang on to a thread of hope. "Let's get to work then."

Nick nodded, thankful that his supervisor hadn't gone and burst his bubble of hope.

She heard a key slip into the lock, immediately aware that she was indeed held captive, her body was ready and her mind was still clearing, but alert. She gripped the mahogany bed post as she tried to steady herself properly. She heard the key turn, slipping out and unlocking the doors and she suddenly realized her heart was beating hard against her chest. She started to take deep breaths, counting until the door would open.

With a soft click, the door slid open, revealing a man, a good looking man with jet black hair, brown eyes, some scratches on his face that did not affect his beauty other than by the cut on his cheek. Then everything came back and she forgot how long she had counted.

She saw brief flashes of what transpired during her abduction. She remembered turning and seeing him standing there like a ghost, she remembered running, tripping and being underneath him, she remembered fighting, clawing and scratching at him. And even after she had fought so hard, he still managed to subdue her easy with a syringe. With those thoughts and memories, she thoughtlessly took a step back in fear, the backs of her legs colliding with the bed, making her fall unceremoniously onto the satins sheets. She looked at the stranger in front of her, her eyes conflicted between defiance and fear.

"Catherine," he said with a soft voice with a smile that did not seem sinister or fake. "You're awake, finally." He moved towards her, closing the door behind him softly. "I was wondering when you were coming around. How are you feeling?"

She remembered him hitting her in the face then her hand subconsciously felt for the cut she knew would be there. She gingerly reached to her face to check her cut, but pulled back when she felt a covering of gauze and tape. She looked at her abductor who had a soft smile playing on his lips again. "Who are you? What am I doing here?" she asked, surprised that her voice did not falter.

He looked around then back at her. "I'm Michael Corwin, I was one of your father's associates. I'm a partner of his at the Rampart and the Gold Coast Casino in Reno…"

She looked at him, suddenly remembering who he was. "You…you were there…at the opening in Reno…" she said, remembering when Sam had introduced her to him when she accompanied him to Reno to be his date for the night. When things had been so easy, so simple then…

"You remembered," he said, nodding. "You look even lovelier now than you did before. Beautiful."

"Why am I here? What do you want?" she asked, her eyes taking on a new glow of anger. "If this is because of Sam and some sort of revenge…"

"Why would I seek revenge for someone who treated me like his own son?" Michael asked, looking puzzled. "This isn't entirely about Sam…I—it's about you, Catherine…"

She stared at him. "What do you want from me?"

"I've seen you, Catherine," he said softly. "You lead such a sad life, a hard life and it pained me to see you suffer. Everyday you look into the masterpieces of death, you see all that is wrong, all that is tainted in this life…you do so much good yet at the same time you get nothing out of them other than punishments and pain. It hurt to see you like that; it hurt not only me but Sam as well."

She shook her head. "What are you talking about? Who—What do you really want?"

He looked at her with sad eyes. "I want to stop your pain, Catherine, take you away from a world that doesn't care enough and love enough." He gave her a smile. "You're such a beautiful person, so beautiful and yet you're surrounded by everything ugly, bad…like a rose in the midst of the sea of thorns…You deserve so much more, so much."

He started to take steps toward her, his hands in his pockets. "I've loved you for so long; I couldn't stand to see you bear the pain you do not deserve."

She eased herself from the edge of the bed. She was not easily intimidated or scared as she faced all kinds of murderers and rapists and killers, but as she stood a few feet from a man who actually claimed to love her after assaulting her and abducting her, she felt powerless and weak. "Please, don't…" she whimpered when he was so close.

"My Catherine," he said in a dreamy whisper, his hands reaching out for her. He grabbed her shoulders and she tried to fight them off, but he kept them back on. "My Catherine, do you not realize that we belong together? That I was born in this earth to save you? To love you and care for you? That I was meant to take you away from all that pain in your life?"

She trembled at his touch, his nails digging into her shoulders. "Don't touch me," she grunted when his weight began to press down on her, pressing her deeper into the soft bed. "Get off of me." She whimpered as he took hold of her wrists, easily pinning them over her head.

"Catherine," he cooed, his face lowering to hers, nearing her enough that she could feel his hot, ragged breaths on her cheeks. "My Catherine."

She felt tears gather in her blue eyes and her bottom lip tremble along with her jaw. She never easily cried, not even when her ex-husband lay on one of Doctor Al's tables when she was so close to breaking down then. She didn't cry at the beginning when she found out who her real father was and what kind of man her was. She didn't even cry as much when she found Grissom and Sara. She was a strong woman, but as she lay underneath the stranger who took her forcefully from her home, she couldn't help but feel weak and useless, vulnerable and exposed.

As Catherine Willows lay with a man on top of her, trapping her like a butterfly, she began to cry.

Sara slipped into Jacqui Franco's lab area. The lab tech was bent over the table over a microscope. "I'm running the prints and I don't have a hit yet…" the lab tech said, sounding unusually dull. "I heard the blood came back an unknown male."

Sara nodded, though the lab tech wasn't facing her. "We think she fought back, trying to leave us with as much evidence she could get hair, blood, saliva and even a print…she did everything."

"That's what Cath would have done," Jacqui nodded. "She'd fight to the death if she had to, there's no way she'd let some stranger take her out…she didn't let Eddie do that and I'm sure as hell she wouldn't let some sick bastard do it either."

Sara nodded again, unsure of what to say. She knew Jacqui and Catherine were close and she didn't know if the lab tech needed comfort or something else. She opted to listen. She turned to the screen and saw the prints running, but not stopping for the match.

"I'm running it through everything, if this guy's a local maybe we'll get him somewhere else," Jacqui said before the computer started to beep loudly. She scrambled for the screen, Sara right behind her. "We got match," she stated the obvious, staring at the screen. "Michael Corwin, gaming card and no priors with a clean record…" she read further. "Oh, crap. He's a part of the Rampart and the Gold Coast casino in Reno."

Sara stared at the screen. "Those are Sam Braun's casinos, Vegas and Reno."

The lab tech nodded. "He's still tied with them now even with Sam gone, does that rule out the poor kicked out partner grudge game?"

"Maybe," Sara said, her forehead wrinkled as her mind worked for possible reasons. "And Catherine never mingled with those types. She stayed away especially after she found out about the truth; it was all Sam…run for the last known address?"

Information on Michael Corwin appeared in an instant, revealing his address. "Surprisingly not, he lives in the richest neighborhood of Las Vegas," Sara said, feeling elated that they were getting closer to finding whoever had anything to do with Catherine's disappearance and maybe to Catherine herself. "I'll call it in, thanks Jacqui!" she said as she rushed out of the room.

"Just bring her back!" she heard the lab tech call out. The brunette nodded as she rushed out, hoping they weren't too late.

"Look at this," Nick said, picking up something from the side of the bed. Grissom turned to see what had gotten the CSI's interest. He held up a small picture.

"What is it?" Grissom asked.

"A picture taken from a crime scene," Nick said. "Catherine, Super Dave and a body…"

Grissom looked at the picture. "A candid, they probably didn't know they were being photographed…print it, bag it and let's get to the lab. We've got everything."

"Looks odd though, the focus is kind of off…" Nick nodded. "Hopefully we lift some prints off this one and get a lead."

Grissom nodded then his phone started to ring. "Grissom." He frowned. "Sara?...What?...yes, tell me and we'll meet you there…we're done here…yeah, good…thank you…" he flipped his phone shut.

Nick looked at him. "What's going on?"

"They ran the print in the living room and Jacqui got a match," Grissom said as they started to gather their kits. "Brass, Sara and Warrick are already on their way there. Let's go."

Nick smiled, looking relieved for a moment. "That was fast. Good."

Grissom nodded.

The two CSI's headed out, the picture tucked safely in Nick's kit, forgotten for a moment as the bubble of hope surged once more. They had a suspect, they had an address and it was almost over.

They only hoped it wasn't too late for Catherine yet.

Thank you so much for the reviews and I l want you guys to know that I loved reading them. Please, keep reviewing if you can and if you guys want you can make suggestions cause it would be nice to know what you think. Lemme know. ---thanks a bunch. xoxo.


	6. Chapter 6

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the one's you don't know are mine.

Note: thanks so much for the comments and the suggestions. And uhm, the Gold Coast thing was from that movie Marg was in with David Caruso. I really don't know the name of Sam's casino in Reno where Cat went with him as his date. If anyone knows please let me know. And thanks so much for the replies! You guys are awesome! I just hope I don't disappoint you all with this chapter…

Chapter Six: Mending the Break

Grissom parked his Denali beside Nick's and they both stepped out, kits and camera at hand. Police officers were coming in and out of the mansion, some uniformed, some in plain clothes. In the corner of Grissom's eyes he could see some of the police officers looking at them with almost imperceptible looks as they passed, but he ignored them. He almost felt lighter as he observed the ambulance and the paramedics stayed open, but not occupied, leaving him to hope that nothing had gone totally wrong. They both passed through the proverbial yellows crime scene tapes to be met by a stoic looking Jim Brass.

"No sign of Catherine anywhere," Brass said as he led them. "Or the owner." He looked at Grissom gravely before turning back to the house. "Warrick and Sara are processing inside."

"Who's the owner?" Grissom asked.

"Michael Corwin, single, age 47, birth date March 29 1960. He's partners with Sam Braun with the Rampart and the Gold Coast in Reno before that, it was his father, James Edward Corwin, an old, but quiet friend of Braun's, and he was literally a quiet partner of Sam's when Braun was the Wynn before Wynn. No sign of Michael in the house and the housekeeper let us in after telling her over and over that cops are always allowed in his house. An open man with nothing to hide," Brass briefed, reciting all the housekeeper had willingly told them.

"Until now, it seems," Grissom muttered.

"We asked her if she's ever seen Catherine, showed her a picture and got a negative," Brass said. "She let us look so we did."

Nick looked around. "Aren't there too many people here? I mean, they're compromising the scene."

"They aren't, not here," Brass said, motioning to the grounds of the estate. "Catherine knew a lot of people before and especially after she came to work with us, they all want to find her too."

Nick nodded. "So if the owner isn't here and there's no sign of Catherine, what are we doing? What's to process?"

"Turns out Michael Corwin did have something to hide." Brass looked ruffled. "We…stumbled into something we never expected to find and I think it's best if you looked at it yourself."

Grissom looked at Brass. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking perplexed as they entered the doubled doors into the grand house.

Brass shook his head. "We're in the den."

To the side, Grissom saw a Mexican middle aged woman, wearing a black and white uniform declaring her as a housemaid, wringing a piece of cloth in her hands, looking nervous as she talked to Detective Vartann. "That the housekeeper?"

Brass nodded. "Live in housekeeper, been working for the Corwin family since her mother did. She claims she hasn't seen Michael Corwin in three days and said that was normal since Corwin was a pretty quiet guy like his father, kept to himself, never had big parties save for some and preferred to not bring guests here."

"Private guy," Nick commented. "No girlfriend?"

Brass shook his head. "None that she knows about."

Nick took a glanced at a picture on a table; a picture of who he guessed as Michael Corwin stood with an old woman guessed was his mother. "Seems like a good looking guy and if that dates to now then he doesn't look his age. What's wrong with him?"

Brass didn't say anything as he began to lead them down a flight of stairs. What led to the den was a trail of pictures of old pictures, some were the old rulers of Las Vegas—some of Sam Braun with Lily Flynn as a showgirl, Catherine's mother, some Tony Constantine and some had old showgirls—"double kiss" Lois O'Neil and Portia Richmond among them who were both killed in different times, by different people in the past. Further down, Grissom and Nick were led into a small landing leading to an open door.

"This isn't what we expected to find," Brass said. "This is what's wrong with Michael Corwin." He led them into the room where Sara and Warrick were processing.

"What the…" Nick said, his mouth hanging open as he entered the room.

Grissom, had he not been so shock, would have uttered something more intellectual and complete. His eyes took in the room, a chill hanging on to him as he digested what was before them all.

Wires from one side of the room to the other hung with pictures, rows and rows of pictures. The four walls were covered in pictures as if Michael Corwin combined it all as some sort of wallpaper. Camera equipment and printing materials were stashed neatly in one shelf along with some notebooks and hardbound leather volumes. A television had been left on, with piles of uncased CD's towered beside. The television was blank, connected to a DVD player, waiting for a disk to be loaded. A video camera sat not far next to a laptop.

"He's been following her," Warrick said quietly, motioning to everything in the room.

All of it was of Catherine, from top to bottom, everything was Catherine and they all stood as witnesses to what Michael Corwin had to hide.

"For how long?" Grissom managed to say softly, not trusting his own voice as he looked at the room, the product of someone who was obviously disturbed. He observed a picture of Catherine with Stephanie, her best friend who was killed one night, an unsolved case. "This was from her days with Stephanie at the French Palace…how long has he been following her?"

Brass shook his head. "Long enough it seems." He looked at a picture of Catherine, sighing wearily.

"Do we bag all this?" Nick asked, looking around, feeling as if he had jumped into a portal into Catherine's world. "I mean…this guy practically documented at least two decades of he life. Or more."

"This is sick," Sara shook her head. "This has got to be as far as you can go with obsession."

"This isn't just an obsession anymore, it's personal and it has become his life," Grissom said pensively. "She must have been some sort of fantasy to him and when he couldn't get enough of her and when she stopped or when she left dancing he couldn't stop…He turned her into his life, altering everything so his world revolved around her." He looked away from the picture of Stephanie and Catherine, only to find another picture.

His eyes fell upon another picture: Catherine, wearing a two-piece number, her long platinum blonde dyed hair gracefully set around her forming what looked like a bright light, like a halo, her body posed in a sexy strut in ridiculouasly high heels. The picture had obviously been taking while she was dancing.

"Bag it, tag it and run it ASAP at the lab," Grissom said his body suddenly on autopilot, tearing his eyes away from the haunting picture. "Warrick, have Archie run those CD's over there and document the pictures and see those memory cards in the digital cameras and that laptop. Run it and take as much as you can get. We have to find her. He's bound to have left at least something to clue us in. People make mistakes and with all this, I'm sure he did." He turned away from the picture of Stephanie and Catherine to Brass. "No one comes to this room except CSI."

Brass nodded. "Privacy, I know. This is Catherine's life in pictures."

Grissom nodded when his phone began to ring. "Grissom."

"Griss," Greg said, sounding a little hurried. "I processed the syringe and we found GHB inside which means he probably injected Catherine with it to sedate her…"

"Damn it," Grissom hissed, making everyone turn to look at him.

"What?—I'm sorry I…"

"No-no it's not you," Grissom said. "Anything else?"

"The prints came back a match to Michael Corwin, same guy, I think it's really him," Greg said into the phone. "Nothing more now, I'm sorry Griss, that's all we could find."

"It's him; we're here at his house. And no, its fine, you did good," Grissom said, snapping his phone shut then taking a deep breath.

"What?" Nick asked. "Found something?"

"The syringe found at Catherine's house tested positive for GHB," Grissom said, looking at his team.

"Probably did it to subdue her," Sara said. "There was no way she was going willingly, obviously from what we found at her house."

Warrick nodded. "And he wanted her so he had to take her down somehow." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Damn it."

Brass nodded, looking even stonier than before. "We better hurry, this guy knows what he's doing and he knows what he wants. We have to beat him before it's too late."

Grissom nodded. "Process as fast and as efficiently as possible, I don't want anything to go wrong while we're in a hurry. Let's do this like any other crime scene. If possible…" he paused and looked at his team. "No emotions or we will have bigger problems with Ecklie and the rest."

Everyone nodded and went to work, determined to get their colleague and friend back.

-o0o-

Catherine bit her bottom lip, willing her tears to stop. She felt the pressure of his weight press down on her and his breath against her face. He looked into her blue eyes, but she looked away, squirming in another attempt to have him off of her. "Catherine," he whispered, his lips moving to hover above hers. She continued to bite down on her bottom lip. "Don't cry, Catherine," he said then brushed his thumb on the corner of her eyes, tracing away all the remnants of her tears.

"Please," she said softly, turning away from him. "Don't do this…don't…"

He cupped her cheek, turning her so her eyes would meet his. "Don't cry, Catherine, don't cry…"

She shook her head. "Just-just get off of me…"

He smiled and ran his hands on her cheeks. "You're so beautiful, Catherine, that when I saw you I couldn't help but fall in love with you."

She swallowed hard, but didn't say anything.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his hand slipping down to her chest. She squirmed more and tried to push him off her body but he stilled her, pushing himself up and grabbing her shoulders to pin them down on the bed. In her weakened state it was enough to subdue her.

She closed her eyes, forcing her mind not to focus on what was happening to her. She thought about Lindsey and she felt her eyes fill with tears and she choked back a sob. "Don't," she whispered as she felt him unbutton her shirt. "No…" she moaned when he didn't listen. She thought about the lab and that led to thinking about Grissom.

"My Catherine," he said, dipping his lips onto the exposed top of her breast.

The thought of Grissom surprisingly gave her some untapped strength and her tears ceased—whether it be anger towards him or hate or love, she didn't know. She bit her lip and sucked in a breath before letting out a loud cry and clawing at his cheek. She heard him cry out, unprepared of her sudden strike.

He stopped, clutching his already scratched cheek, lined once again with red after she somehow reopened the gash. He looked at her as she glared at him with cold eyes.

"Get off me!" she growled, giving him a giant shove and pushing him off of her and the bed itself. He let out a surprised cry as he toppled over and fell to the ground face first. She jumped from the bed, shoving satin sheets aside and ran for the doors.

"No!" he growled as he scrambled to his feet, lunging at her before she could get near the door.

She screamed when his hand curled around her ankle, stopping her cold and making her fall face first to the ground, bumping her chin in the process. She moaned the pain and the blow sending her mind into a sudden spin. She turned to her side, spitting out blood once more from where her teeth clamped down on her tongue when she fell.

"Never do that again!" he screamed furiously, the love-induced lull gone to be replaced by fury and rage. He hovered over for a moment before grabbing her by the arms and pulling her to her feet, "Don't ever do that again, you hear me?" he screamed, shaking her furiously, her head snapping back and forth.

She looked at him, but could barely look straight, her mind too muddled from all the shaking, sudden movements and the possible side effects of whatever he had injected her hours before.

"Do you hear me?" he screamed when he received no answer. "Don't ever do this again!" he raised his hand and landed it squarely against her cheek.

She groaned and whimpered, having not been able to brace herself before he hit her. She felt her mouth fill with blood again, the metallic taste bitter against her tongue. She felt her cheeks throbbing, feeling a bruise creeping its way onto her porcelain skin. She turned away from him, cowering from the blow but he growled and righted her, forcing her to face him, squeezing her arm in a way she was sure would leave bruises.

"Look at me!" he screamed. "You're staying here whether you like it or not and if you ever try anything stupid like this again I will not be as kind!" he shoved her, pushing her down to the floor.

She let out a surprised cry, falling blindly with her hand out, ready to break her fall. She knew that wasn't a good move, but with everything she was going through she had forgotten to think fast. Her hand broke her fall, but suddenly she cried out when she felt pain shoot from her wrist then all the way to her shoulder. She dropped down the floor fully on her side, moaning and whimpering, her left hand cradling her right wrist.

"I'll be back," he said, turning and walking out of the room.

She heard the door close lightly then a cool metallic sound of a lock sliding in place. She bit her bottom lip and began to cry silently, pushing herself on to her feet and crawling back onto the bed.

-o0o-

They bagged the evidence and processed the scene, finding nothing that led them to believe Catherine had ever been to the house. The distraught house keeper was brought in and settled her into an interrogation room with a cup of coffee and Brass. Warrick had gone into the lab with Archie, the CD's, the pictures; the flash drives, memory cards and a laptop were brought in.

Nick had himself busy checking through all the other photo documents, all of which were seemingly meticulous records of Catherine's life over the years. He looked at pictures, spread out in the evidence table, recognizing his colleague in some and in others not. He gazed at her picture, a much younger Catherine dressed in a sequined two piece, smiling with another girl, a brunette, their cheeks pressed side to side, smiling wide into the camera. He knew it was Stephanie Watson, her best friend from the French Palace who was murdered, a case unsolved even after Catherine herself tried to solve but could not. He sighed, putting the picture down and deciding to begin the timeline of Catherine Willows' life in pictures.

Sara was immersed in Michael Corwin's file, pulled out from the database, a short file since the man seemed to have led an ideally quiet life in Las Vegas as a silent partner. She had gotten off the phone with some of his associates only to find short answers of all the same nature—a quiet, reserved man who was a good friend of Sam Braun's, seemingly driven to learn as much as he could from the man, learn things he couldn't from his own father. She rolled her eyes, her cynical side telling her it was a bunch of lies and that Michael Corwin was not what he seemed.

Grissom sat in his office, mulling over the events of the day, his mind going in overdrive as he tried to recall if Catherine ever mentioned anything about a Michael Corwin after her trip from Reno with Sam. He wracked his brain, finding no memory. He was seated, thinking deep when suddenly his office door flew open and Conrad Ecklie came in thundering.

"Grissom!" he spat, his eyes spitting out venom. "When the hell was I suppose to know about Willows?" he slammed his palm onto the desk. "And what the hell is your team doing handling the case? We all know that's against protocol!"

Grissom slipped his glasses on. "The call came in at our shift and Catherine is part of my team and we're out to find her."

"Oh yeah?" Ecklie sneered. "You know you can't do that, that's a conflict of interest, your team can't get involved in the investigation."

"Yes, we can and we are, it was our call, our shift and we know we are more than capable of finding her," Grissom said coolly, staring at his old rival.

"This is a conflict of interest, Grissom and you know it," he said, calmly this time. "I know she's a part of your team, but we cannot afford to mess this up when you and your team are emotionally involved."

"When this happened to Nick we did well enough, Conrad," Grissom reasoned. "That proves we can work, especially with one of our own at stake."

"And what about you?" the Assistant Director asked. "I already know about the stalking, Grissom and I know about this guy, Michael Corwin, stalking Catherine to the point past obsession. That means he knows all about you and Catherine, Gil, and you and I know well enough you were in her life longer than anyone in this lab knows."

"I know that, Ecklie, and I don't care. Me and Catherine have nothing to hide and I'm not about to risk her life if I knew I'd mess up," Grissom said pointedly.

"She's one of our own and frankly, I can stand her better than I can stand you," Ecklie said, rolling his eyes. "And I don't want to lose a CSI now and either you hand over the case or I will have the under sheriff and the mayor remove your team from this case. Let the dayshift take this, Gil, don't waste whatever time Catherine has left."

Grissom rose from his seat. "Go and call them, Conrad, go ahead. Right now I have to find my CSI. I will not hand over the case. She's my CSI and she means more to me than anyone in this lab. My team will find her and we will not rest until she's back here with us."

Ecklie shook his head. "You know the risk you're taking, Gil, you can hurt her just as much as you and your team can help her."

"We'll get her back," Grissom said, his blue eyes meeting the Assistant Director's in an intense gaze.

"I know you, Gil, even though you won't admit it, but I do," Ecklie said. "IF anything should happen to her you know you'll blame yourself in the end. Do you think you can forgive yourself should anything happen to her?"

Grissom looked at him coldly. "Nothing will happen to her."

"You can't know that for sure. Gil," Ecklie said. "Let the day shift take this, Gil, that's my advice. You can't jeopardize Catherine with tangled emotions into this."

Grissom shook his head. "I appreciate the concern on behalf of Catherine, but we'll be fine."

"I don't want her hurt just as much as you do, Grissom," Ecklie said as he turned his back on him. "And you better make sure you get her back alive."

Grissom watched with his mouth partially open after hearing what the arrogant Assistant Director said. He looked at the retreating man, wondering how he had missed that fact that _maybe_ Conrad Ecklie may not have been so not human, that maybe he was capable of feeling _something _or_ anything _for that matter for someone else. Especially Catherine.

He shook his head. "You're emotionally involved too, Conrad," he said under his breath as he walked out of his office, still taken aback by the revelation. "Whether you admit it or not."

He walked out of his office, ignoring the stares from the people that he passed by, knowing they all heard what he and Ecklie had to say. He credited them for not trying to mask their stares as they all turned and watched him, credit for balls, he mused.

"Grissom," he heard someone call him.

"Warrick," he said, seeing the tall man stand just outside the A/V lab.

"We got something," Warrick motioned for him to follow and sat down next to Archie. "We found a disk and it had "To: Gilbert Grissom" written on it."

Grissom looked puzzled. "Did you check it already?"

Archie shook his head. "We wanted you to see it first."

Grissom nodded. "Rick, call Brass and Ecklie. I want them in on this."

"Ecklie?" Warrick asked, but when he saw Grissom nod he went and put his own questions on hold.

Archie looked at Grissom who nodded and said, "Play it."

-o0o-

Catherine heard the lock slide and the door suddenly opened to reveal Michael holding a small black bag. He looked at her as she sat on the bed, her hand cradling her wrist protectively as her face took on a defiantly look despite the fact that the odds were against her—fight or no fight. He closed the door and went to her. "Show me your wrist."

She shook her head. "Just get away from me," she spat.

"Just show me your hand and I'll be out of your way," he said, holding out his hand to her.

She looked at him, her stubbornness taking over as she glared at him with her eyes full of hate. "No."

He sighed before suddenly pushing her, his hands landing on her shoulders and pushing her down onto the bed. She let out a cry, falling on her back. "There we go," he said as bent on knee on the bed while the other stood planted firmly on the ground. "Stay still."

She made a sudden move to get up but he suddenly grabbed her injured wrist, making her cry out and fall back onto the bed, whimpering.

He let go immediately. "You made me do it," he said as he set the black bag down next to them. "Just stay still before I hurt you any more."

She did as she was told, letting out a small sob as the pain began once more from her wrist. She watched him as he opened his small bag, revealing that it was a small first aid kit. She watched as he took out a roll of skin tone bandage. "What are you doing?"

"Your wrist, I'm thinking, is sprained and not broken so I'm mending it," he said simply as he unrolled the bandage. "Though for a smart CSI that was a stupid thing to do, holding your hand out like that."

She didn't say anything.

"Your wrist," he said, holding out his hand.

"Why are you doing this? You'll kill me anyway so what's the point in mending me?" she asked boldly.

He leaned in close to her, his dark eyes leveling with her blue eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, you're no good to me dead and that's why I'm mending you. I'm not going to kill you _yet._" He pulled back. "Now, where were we?"

Reluctantly allowed him to mend her, all the while he concentrated on his work and surprised her that he was careful enough not to cause her any more pain. She wondered what his purpose was in taking her if he wasn't going to kill her. _Yet_, a voice in her head reminded her bitterly and she bit back the thought.

So far she knew she'd only caused herself pain that he hadn't seemed to plan in the first place. She had provoked him in doing so and now she was left to wonder what Michael Corwin had planned for her.

Not knowing, she thought with a slight shiver, was definitely more terrifying than knowing what was ahead.

-o0o0o-

Thanks for the replies everyone! I'm sorry this took way too long! And I hope you liked this one…next chap we get to the disk with Grissom's name on it! If you want me to keep going let me know! All wight? Thanks everyone, you've been great! xoxo.ciao—iferleigh.

Oh! Happy Holidays everyone! hugs and kisses to all!


	7. Chapter 7

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the one's you don't know are mine. And you might encounter spoilers from different episodes from different seasons.

Note: thanks so much for the comments! You guys rock! Grillows forever…bwahaha…

-o0o0o-

Chapter Seven: Moving On

"Hello, Gil," Michael Corwin said with a smile. "Since you're already watching this, I'm sure you've seen my house and everything I've worked on for so many years." He leaned back, smoothing the front of his finely tailored suit that looked to be Armani. "I'm sure by now you know everything there is to know about me—where I live, who I am, what I do. The basic things you'd find in a clean man's government records."

Just then, Brass and Ecklie came in, followed by Warrick. "Michael Corwin, that's him. Did he make any demands? Or did he just wanna party with Catherine?"

"That's the man who has Catherine?" Ecklie asked to which Brass and Warrick nodded without a word as both their faces were clouded darkly.

Grissom shook his head and continued to listen.

"You'll see that I haven't a single bad record in my files, just one of the few outstanding, privileged citizens here in Nevada," he chuckled. "Not even a speeding ticket."

"Just a regular Joe then," Brass muttered with sarcasm thick in his voice. "Great."

"Why should I?" Michael said with a smile. "I've been busy my entire life, devoting it and living it the way my father did, silent but thriving, working hard and accumulating just as much money as the big shots like Braun was," he crossed his arms over his chest. "Not that I have anything against Sam Braun. He's treated me like a son, teaching me everything there is to know. It's such a shame he had to die like that, a poor gay loser who couldn't handle losing the game and losing his lover. Pathetic." He looked bitter and angry for a moment. "Sam Braun didn't have to die, not like that…and Catherine needn't have felt the pain of losing her father, having him die in her arms like that…"

The group watched as Michael pulled out something out from the inside of his suit. "Which leads me to ask," he showed a picture of Catherine, holding the fallen Sam Braun, her beautiful face crumpled by an anguished look, with tears frozen in time on her cheeks. "Where were you then?"

Grissom shifted uneasily in his seat as his eyes fixed on the looked on Catherine's face.

"Where were you then, Gil? Her father just died, true he may have been suspect to your murders and he lied to her all those years," Michael said. "But you know she loved him like she would her real father, right? You already know she grew up having him around, visiting her mother, him bringing her presents from some enchanted place he called Las Vegas, the same place where he said all his tales came from." He smiled. "You know about that, don't you, Gil? You know he used to tell her bed time stories, telling her all about the city of bright lights where he promised he'd take her one day when she was old enough and she's listen to him, right? She'd listen until she'd fall asleep, dreaming of what life could be if Sam Braun was really her daddy, the only daddy she ever wanted."

Brass glared at the man on the screen as he told tales of the life Catherine had the life she ran away from when she was sixteen. Brass wondered then where the perfect Sam Braun was then when his daughter ran away from home to Seattle to be with some bum. Where was precious daddy then when Catherine decided to strip for a living just to make it by? Where was he and his thugs when Catherine suffered in the hands of her abusive husband? He didn't like how the Michael Corwin character was trying to portray a murderer like Sam Braun as a loving father. He bit back his tongue, struggling not to say another word until they finished the disk.

"You hated it, didn't you?" Michael said with a scowl. "You hated that Sam Braun turned out to be her father, it was bad enough that she was close to him, but for her to turn out to be that much close? How, tell me, Gil, how much did it make your blood run cold? Your best friend's father is a murderer, hell, your best friend's father is the biggest mogul slash murderer in Vegas and you two work for the Crime Lab." He let out a loud laugh. "Did it make your own blood run cold when you found out Sam Braun's blood ran in her veins as well?"

"Isn't it ironic, Gil? How you all are so good in solving crimes and putting the guilty in jail then suddenly you can't bring the big bad casino mogul in?" he shook his head. "And tell me, how did it feel when you found out Sam was trying to win her back by being a father, by giving her what she needs, by providing her money so she can live like a Braun, by being the perfect grandfather for Lindsey and a husband to Lily? You hated that he was creeping back into her life…Didn't you?"

Ecklie shook his head. "The press can't know about all this, Gil, Sam Braun may be dead but what he did will not be easily forgotten."

Grissom turned to him. "Catherine never covered for Sam and after she found out, she never let herself anywhere near his cases. She has nothing to hide."

"Don't you think I know that?" Ecklie snapped. "I may not always be buddy-buddy with her and you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let the media maul her and the lab."

"You're a silent man, Gil Grissom," Michael said, his palms now pressed together underneath his chin. "But you always prided yourself on bringing the lab to its current status, right? The number two lab," he said and gestured grandly. "In the country, solving cases that would have been deemed unsolvable by others…" he looked into the camera and seemingly straight at Grissom. "Now, Gilbert Grissom, I sit in front of you right now and I dare you: Find your precious Catherine before it's too late. If you do, I promise you will have your precious Catherine Willows alive and in one piece."

"Damn it, so this is just a game?" Warrick asked after remaining quiet through the whole deal. "What's this guy playing at?"

"Should you fail, I assure you that you will never see her again, dead or alive," he said. "Heed my warnings, Gilbert Grissom, for I am a man of my word." He gave a small wave of a goodbye then the screen went black. Then the screen came back once again with a picture of Catherine, dressed in a green cocktail dress, sitting on a table of what seemed to be an expensive restaurant. She was smiling slightly, a smile that Grissom knew to be forced. She held a fork in mid air, as if she was listening intently to whoever was talking to her. She did not look happy but seemed to be trying to look like she was, but still she looked beautiful.

The men sat, staring at the still picture on the screen as if waiting for it to move and say something. Archie was first to ease himself off the trance like state and looked at his supervisor for further instruction. He turned and saw Ecklie who wore a furious look on his face, Brass looking stoic and still as a stone and Warrick with his head in his hands, palms pressed against his eyes.

Grissom looked at Archie. "Run it and see if you can get anything else and if not, check the other CD's and see what you can find. I'm your first call."

Archie nodded, turning away from the people behind him. "I'll get right on it," he said and began his work, starting from the beginning, not sure of what he would find or if there was anything to find.

Grissom turned to the group and looked at Brass. "Run everything and try to find out as much as you can about this creep. I want this case closed as soon as possible. He wants to play but first I want to know everything about him before he can surprise us. He's left some paper trail somewhere; I know it, he left it and we need to find it."

"I'll call Curtis in to help," Brass said grimly. "We need all the help we can get. He's not just any creep, Gil, he's not kidding about this either and he's got Catherine by the thread."

"I know and yes, call Sofia," Grissom said gravely. "We need to know everything about him, where he went to school, his family, his life—everything." He turned to Ecklie. "I will not let go of this case, Conrad, it's personal and I'm the one he wants. I can't give up on this."

Ecklie nodded, surprising Grissom that the Assistant Director who never failed to show him how much he hated him with a passion didn't put up a fight. "It is personal and he's after you and Catherine both, if grave is tapped out I'll call in the day and swing shift."

Grissom nodded and nodded to Warrick. "Get the team together; I need all of us on this."

Warrick nodded. "I'll get them in the break room."

-o0o-

The graveyard shift sat in the break room, waiting for their supervisor. For once, the group sat in silence, not talking or making any sort of noise and surprisingly no one turned on the television. Even the always bubbly Greg Sanders sat demurely, a results sheet sitting in front of him untouched and his hands wrapped around a cup of his Blue Hawaiian coffee and him staring aimlessly at the table. He knew he'd done everything he could and had to. He knew his part of the job was done. Now it was time to move on. He wanted to take the next step to getting Catherine back.

Sara hand her head in her hands, her mind working in over drive as she reviewed the case over and over in her mind. She knew there was more to know, she knew somewhere along the way this Michael Corwin creep left something out. All she had to do was find it.

Nick sat, arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back with his eyes closed. He was working through the photographs and it was getting him nowhere. All it was were pictures of Catherine from different times, but he knew that's what they all were: Just pictures. He knew he had more to go through, boxes of evidence taken from the mansion was waiting. He needed to move on.

Warrick sat next to Nick, his mind replaying the tape in his mind. The man was obsessed with Catherine, that much was obvious, but it piqued him why Michael Corwin would particularly pick Grissom and go as far as bothering him of not being there when Sam Braun died. He knew it was an emotional threat, he figured that, showing Grissom pictures of Catherine and Sam, asking him if he knew what she went through. He knew Michael was out to get Grissom, but he didn't know why. Somehow, he knew it had as much to do with his boss as Catherine.

Grissom came to the room, trying to look as impassive as he always looked. He held a folder, Catherine's case folder, in his hands. "I'm not sure if Warrick told you but we found a disk that was addressed to me from Michael Corwin."

All eyes turned on him, clouded by confusion and questions once more. He looked at Warrick who nodded at him as if to tell him to continue. He opened the case folder that held his initial notes. "Michael Corwin evidently left that disk for me to find, addressing it to me and leaving a video with a message concerning Catherine."

"What did he want?" Greg asked with his eyes full of questions.

Grissom tried to look impassive once more. "He wants me to play his game. He knows me for some reason and Catherine as well."

"So are you saying he took her partly because of you too?" Greg asked, his eyes lighting up in confusion.

"I don't know, Greg, but he knows me and he wants me to play his game," Grissom said, looking right at the young CSI. "I don't know if it's something I or Catherine has done. I've never heard or met this man and I don't know about Catherine, but if we play his game right we will get Catherine back alive."

"What if we don't?" Nick asked then, his eyes betraying his doubts.

"He's promised we'll never see her again dead or alive," Grissom said, his eyes darkening then. He looked down on his file. "I've got you on those photographs, Nick, what did you find?"

Nick shrugged. "Nothing because, Griss, that's all it really is: a bunch of pictures. No clue, no information, nothing. Just a bunch of pictures of Catherine for maybe twenty years from her dancing to her life now, this guy kept tabs on her for that long. He's sick and I don't know what else."

"What else do you have to process?" Grissom asked.

"I was about to drop the pictures for now, I still have those leather volumes to get to, I haven't even checked them, too much evidence on this," Nick said. "I was on my way to them though."

"I want you to process with them, see what's inside those books," Grissom said before turning to Greg. "Greg? Any more from DNA and trace?"

"Aside from the GHB, the blood and the DNA, I've done all I can, I got the results of the GHB here," he handed Grissom the paper. "It's GHB and that's all, nothing added, nothing distinct. I've given all I can to the lab work; maybe I can help Nick with the pictures and the leather volumes."

Grissom nodded. "Good. Sara, you have been on Corwin's background, did you find anything?" He was relieved they were still able to work through everything without conflict, especially after their last conversation. He knew he was still in deep waters with Sara, but he was grateful she was handling it all professionally, even if he hadn't even apologized yet.

Sara shook her head. "No, this guy is just too damn clean it's impossible."

"Check for aliases, see if he or anyone from his family had one," Grissom said. "He's made it clear he's been too busy to commit a crime or break a law, he claims he's never even had a speeding ticket."

Sara nodded. "I'll keep digging. There's got to be something on this guy."

Grissom nodded then turned to Warrick. "You and Archie keep looking through his things and see if he left anything else. Let me know."

Warrick nodded. "I'll see into the flash drives he left."

Grissom nodded. "If nothing changes tonight, I want all of you to go home…"

And just as expected, the protests erupted and he held up a hand to silence them, but found that wasn't enough and they went on.

"That's bull, Griss!" Nick said as he stood up.

"Not fair! We had the entire lab working when Nick was taken!" Greg protested bravely though standing up to the supervisor wasn't a usual for him. "And Cat not once took a break then!"

"We're not going anywhere," Sara said, her face hard and determined same way she got when she was absorbed in her cases.

Grissom looked at his team; all of them were standing now, leveling with him. "I know that, all of that, but we need to stay fresh for this…"

"We're not giving up after just one shift," Warrick said calmly. "You know that."

Grissom nodded. "I am not asking you to give up, I will never ask that. I'm just saying that you need to get some rest, not burn yourself out on finding Catherine. You'll see clearly with fresh eyes."

Sara shook her head. "We've pulled longer shifts. This is Catherine and we need her back, think about Lindsey. You can't make us leave."

"Yeah," Greg said, crossing his arms. "The faster we work, the closer we get to finding Cat."

Grissom looked at his team before nodding slightly. "Fine, but I want all of you to eat right and take rests in between. Take shifts if you want, on sleeps while the others work. Catherine wouldn't want you all to be burnt out."

They all nodded. "Time to get back to work then," Nick said as he ducked out of the room. The rest agreed and followed, leaving Grissom in the break room.

"You know, you never said anything about taking a rest yourself," he heard someone say and found Greg by the doors, lingering.

"I will," he said shortly, looking at the younger CSI who just looked placid.

Greg nodded. "She'd want you to."

Grissom nodded. "Yes, she would."

Greg nodded. "I'll go help Nick then." He said as he began to walk away. "Oh, and I've got my Blue Hawaiian on the pot if you want some." He smiled a little before retracing Nick's steps.

-o0o-

Catherine almost bit her lip, but the sudden pain that erupted from her tongue stopped her. She recoiled, her hand slipping away momentarily from Michael's. She moaned and felt the now familiar taste of blood in her mouth. Unable to control herself, she turned her head aside and spat out blood onto the satin sheets.

"Damn," she heard him mutter and once more she prepared herself for another blow to punish her. When none came she looked at him, easing herself onto a sitting position.

"I'll get you some ice later," he said simply as he took her hand once more and continued to wrap the bandage around her wrist.

She watched as he made one last wrap around her wrist before securing it with the small lock to hold it together. She eased her hand away from him, cradling it on her thigh as she stared at it.

"I'll be back," he said simply as he gathered his first aid kit and headed to the door.

"Wait!" she heard herself say without thinking. She swallowed hard as he stopped and turned to her, looking at her questioningly. "I-I'm…" She didn't know why she'd called him in the first place.

He stared at her. "What, Catherine?"

"I'm hungry," she said, feeling herself redden at how idiotic she sounded.

He looked at her for a moment before nodding. "You were unconscious for a while and you didn't get to eat breakfast after your work, you missed lunch and dinner. Understandable." He nodded. "I'll be back, Catherine."

"How long have I been gone?" she heard herself asked as she once more looked at her wrist.

He sighed. "Not too long, not for twenty-four hours yet, but it's past midnight and I'm sure your lab is already looking for you."

She felt heard a lump in her throat. "Am I…am I ever going to see anyone from work again?"

"It's not for me to decide," he said. He looked at her with her head bent, staring at her hand and wrist. "Don't lose hope, Catherine, it's never wrong to hope."

She didn't say anything as she heard the door open and close, the cold lock slipping into place once more. She sighed and fought the urge to cry. She wasn't hungry to begin with and now she felt like she could throw up whatever she had left in her stomach.

-o0o-

Greg arrived in the evidence room and found Nick putting the photos back into the evidence box. He picked up a photo of Catherine dressed in a halter top, mini-skirt and high heels. "You know, looking at Cat now, you'd never know she was a…"

"Why are you here, Greg?" Nick said before Greg could finish his comment.

The younger CSI's face took on a more sober look. "I came to help…I've dealt the DNA and I've put everything to Hodges in Trace. I'm done with the lab aspect of the investigation…and you did say you had too much evidence to process."

Nick nodded. "Thanks, man, I've got this, but you can process that box over there." He pointed to the box not far from him. "Leather volumes, haven't gone into them yet."

Greg nodded. "I'm on it." He moved to the other side of the table and pulled out a bagged leather volume. As per procedure, he opened the sealed evidence bag and carefully took out the leather volume. "A book?" he said as he looked at the leather cover. "It's got out guy's name on it, gold embossed. It's real leather." He looked at Nick who was looking intently at evidence he held.

"Gotta be custom made," Nick observed. "He's a rich guy."

"It's some kind of journal," Greg nodded as he opened the leather volume. "Uh…Nick."

"What?" Nick asked, putting the last of the pictures away.

"You have to see this."

He moved to Greg's side of the table. "What?"

"It's Catherine's."

-o0o-

Ooh, I know this chapter sucked big time…but I'll make it up! I'm back to school so that leaves me more reasons to start imagining cause classes can be so boring…college sucks. Anyway, please, even if this chapter isn't so good leave your comments because I love reading your comments and I like knowing people are actually reading it. Thanks everyone for all your comments again! I really appreciate it! )xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the one's you don't know are mine.

Note: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long. i hit a block but I'm working on it. Thanks so much again for the replies! Please read and comment as always! I appreciate everyone's thoughts on this.

Note2: I have been reading those "Yo!Bling threads and I must say they make a good point. Don't worry, I'm not converting. I was just browsing, but still…Grillows looks sweeter to me.

-o0o0o-

Chapter Eight: An Invitation

The two CSI's stared at the journal in front of them, the words that filled an entire page and the one next to it filled with girlish, elegant strokes. They knew their own colleagues handwriting, they've read enough memos/reports, holiday cards and letters after all the years they worked together.

"What do you think this means?" Greg asked, his eyes reluctantly going over the words that were supposed to be Catherine's private words. He was a gossip, that was a fact, but reading someone else's journal, Catherine's journal to be exact was beyond the line he wasn't about to cross, especially on a situation like this. Greg knew what lines not to cross.

Nick shrugged, he too unable to tear his gaze away from the handwritten thought of Catherine Willows. "I don't know, but see that?" he pointed to the some words. "It looks like a copy…probably Xeroxed copied or scanned then he had it book bounded together…"

"Makes sense," Greg said, nodding. "This guy was obsessed with her and if he knew she had a journal then he would definitely want to get in her head…and it does have his name on all of them."

Nick nodded.

"This guy just topped the sick-wackos list," Greg muttered, closing the journal shut and scowling.

"I have to agree with you there," Nick said. "Let's get this to Grissom."

"Good idea, he'd know what to do," Greg said as he took out his phone and paged Grissom's number. "If Cat would allow anyone to read something as personal as this then it's gotta be Grissom."

Nick shook his head, looking skeptical. Now his mind was working as he surmised and thought about the last few years. "Really?"

"Why not?" Greg asked then suddenly a look understanding came over him. "Oh…right. The Sara thing..."

"Did you know about…them?" Nick asked, trying to look casual though he was obviously a little bothered at the subject.

Greg shrugged. "I guessed it…Grissom was timing out right after shift would end, even took a vacation and some day offs… sent Sara a package when he was on sabbatical when he didn't even call Catherine once on the phone, and he was sometimes late then Sara would come in, he always paired up with her for cases." He looked down at the journal. "And he never talked to Cat anymore, never saw them hang out like they used to…He didn't even talk to her when Sam died…it just got weird, you know…like he…"

"Replaced her?" Nick asked, looking at Greg with a raised eyebrow. "You've been watching way too many Dawson's Creek reruns, Greg-o."

Greg shook his head. "By the look on your face I'd say you've been watching the same reruns as well," he muttered as he pulled out a few more journals.

"What look on my face?" Nick asked.

"We both know you had a thing for Cat then when you figured out the boss factor you went for Sara who once again, had the same boss factor thing going on," Greg said. "Grissom just took two of the girls you were after, but you wanna know what I think?"

Nick looked at him with a small, astonished grin, shaking his head. "You've gotta be high on something…"

"I think this time it's harder for you," Greg turned to look at him, looking right into his eyes. "Because this time you really have it bad for Sara, not like with Cat. She was just a crush."

Nick shook his head. "Now that I think about it," he paused for a moment, looking pensive. "Nah, it's not Dawson's Creek. Gotta be the O.C. for you, surfer boy."

Greg shook his head. "Whatever man, besides, those babes are hot. Even the moms! Well, the single mom I guess, the brunette one, the blonde girl's mom."

Nick shook his head. "I think we've got more important things to do than talk about hot babes and moms…"

"Yes, and it would also help if you two stopped gossiping about your colleagues," Hodges said as he came in with a sullen look.

Nick and Greg looked at each other then shrugged. "Good of you to finally show up, Hodges," Greg deadpanned as he put the journal down. Greg was a gossip, but Hodges was definitely the gossip queen in the lab. 'Always in the know….'

Hodges shook his head. "I too have a life, Sanders, but hey, seems like you don't need me. You seem to be going well with actually dabbing into Trace when you' were originally a DNA lab rat. DNA and Trace, Greg, wow. You, after all, are the big lab superstar."

"You weren't around and Grissom needed someone to do it, someone he could trust," Greg grinned. "Can I help it if I'm good?"

Hodges scowled. "So, with all your yapping, find anything to help find Catherine, you know, our boss lady who got kidnapped and you're here going on like chatty Cathy while she's probably somewhere, dead in…"

"Shut up!" Nick and Greg said at the same time. Greg's face had flushed at the mention of 'dead' and Nick had had enough of Hodges trying to guilt him for nothing.

"She's not dead, she's not gonna die and we will get her back!" Greg said harshly. "Now you get back to your corner and haul ass in helping find her!"

Hodges looked at Greg, shock visibly written on his face. Never had the playful former lab tech taken a violent and serious turn on their usual banters. "I didn't mean it like that…"

"Just go, Hodges," Greg said quietly as he gathered some journals. "You're not helping right now."

Hodges nodded and left, leaving Nick to stare at his young friend who was concentrating on gathering the evidence. "You okay?"

"Just struck a nerve…" Greg muttered. "She can't be…"

Nick nodded. "She's fine, Greg-o, we'll get her back before we even start missing her."

"I already do," Greg said as he picked up a stack and left the evidence room.

-o0o-

Grissom sat with Archie, once again watching as the lab tech tried to pull any clue that might lead them to Michael Corwin. So far they had gotten nothing and Warrick was still sifting through the other discs and flash drives.

"I think I got something," Warrick said, pulling out another disc and a piece of paper.

Grissom turned to Warrick. "What?"

Warrick showed him the piece of paper, on it written: "Catherine Corwin" He loaded the disc in and allowed the computer to read the file.

Grissom scowled. "What's this suppose to be?"

"I think…" Warrick said as he started working on the computer. "It's a username..."

Grissom looked at him. "For what?"

A presentation came onto the screen. In black, bold letters were written:

TIME TO CHECK YOUR EMAIL, MR. GILBERT ARTHUR GRISSOM.

Grissom went to another computer and checked his mail. A message waited for him from Catherine Corwin, inviting him to a conference meeting through a web came.

"Can you trace this, Arch?" Warrick asked Archie who was looking at the message as well.

"If he starts the conference we might be able to and get a location, it depends," Archie said with a nod.

Warrick nodded. "I'll call in Brass, this has got to be part of this goddamned game."

Grissom nodded and opened the message and accepted the invitation. Immediately a page of instruction came to view, giving the specific time until Catherine Corwin would be back on to start the conference.

"We've got thirty minutes after opening this until he gets in," Archie said as he sat in his chair and began to set up his system. "If we get him on I can trace him the moment you two connect."

Grissom nodded. "Good."

"Let's hope we can end this right here," Archie muttered as he typed furiously into his keyboard,

-o0o-

After an hour of waiting, Catherine was starting to wonder why Michael had not gotten back. She was staring to get hungry after all, leaving her to wonder how she could have an appetite in her situation. She eased herself onto a sitting position and looked at her perfectly bandaged wrist, remembering the words her captor had left her, _'It's not for me to decide…."_

She wondered if he was working for someone higher, but she doubted that. He was a rich man from what she remembered Sam had told her and from her first impression of him. She wondered if he had a partner, but dismissed the thought as well. He was working way too easy and erratically, not appearing to be thinking about anyone else, but his decision.

She sighed and tore her mind away from her mysterious captor, noting how he seemed to have had a close relationship with her father. She wondered how close? _Shut up_, her mind said harshly. She decided to think about her team then, wondering what they knew and what they held evidence or if they even know.

But Michael was right. She hadn't shown up for shift and someone was bound to wonder. Someone had to have wondered why she didn't come in. right?

She thought about Lindsey, wondering if her daughter knew already. She felt a sick twist in her stomach as she remembered her last conversation with her daughter.

"_What do you want from me?" Lindsey screamed as she stomped up the stairs, dragging her duffel bagful of her cheerleading uniform and shoes._

_It was just like any other day for Catherine as she got ready for work; Lindsey had come in looking upset. Catherine was worried then, her mothering side taking over as she worried about her baby girl. Something was obviously upsetting her. She inquired about her day, got a snappy retort then as always, it all came down the way it usually did: sullen, angry daughter versus the hard working, inquiring mother._

"_I am not finished talking to you, Lindsey!" Catherine snapped as she followed her up. "Don't you dare walk away from me!"_

"_Watch me!" she said as she ran faster up the stairs._

_Catherine tried not to let out a full scream as she followed. "Lindsey Willows! Stop this right now and talk to me!"_

"_I don't want to talk to you!" Lindsey screamed from the top of the stairs, looking down at her mother with her blue eyes burning with rage. "Just leave me the hell alone!"_

_Catherine felt the urge to grab her daughter and wash her mouth with the lavender soap she loved to use during her pamper-me sessions in her bathroom. "Watch your mouth, young lady."_

"_Watch your mouth, young lady," Lindsey mimicked with a mocking tone. "Am I suppose to be scared now, mom?"_

_Catherine thundered up the stairs and stood on the step lower than Lindsey, but still managed to get the height advantage she was glad she still had. Lindsey hated always the fact she didn't get her mother's height genes. "Lindsey, you stop this right now. I will not tolerate you talking to me like that. I mean it."_

_Lindsey rolled her eyes. "Whatever, mom, whatever drama you have prepared, save it. I'm not in the mood, thanks to you."_

_Catherine fought the urge to grab her daughter and actually shake some sense into her. "Why are you acting like this, Lindsey? What have I done now?"_

"_Nothing," she said with a bitter tone. "That's it. Nothing."_

_Catherine shook her head. "I'm sorry; this past week has been really…"_

"_Save it," came a biting retort. "I've heard that damn speech before, I've been hearing it for sixteen years now so please, save it mom, don't waste your breath."_

_She made sure not to let a tear show, crying was never an option evening times like these with Lindsey who, like her father, was always good with words and anger. "Lindsey…" She reached out to touch her daughter on the shoulder, but an unexpected hand grabbed her on the wrist with a harsh grip._

"_I said don't!" Lindsey screamed. "Just don't touch me, don't talk to me and just get off me mom!"_

_"Lindsey!" Catherine tore her wrist from the tight grip, reminding her of unpleasant memories of times spent with her husband. She was scared for a moment that maybe her daughter had picked up on her husband's temper._

_Glaring, she turned and walked away, hoisting her duffel bag on her shoulder and stalking up to her room. With a slam of her bedroom door, Lindsey Willows was satisfied as she stood in her room. _That should show her,_ she thought angrily as she plopped herself on her bed._

_Catherine stood just where her daughter left her, holding her wrist, her mind spinning with memories she thought she had long ago buried._

She remembered, as she looked down on her injured wrist now that it was the same wrist Lindsey had grabbed not more than two days ago…or was it three? She shuddered, feeling the build up of tears once more as she remembered the look of anger and hate flash on her daughter's face. So much like her father it unnerved her.

"I'm so sorry, Lindsey," she said softly, wishing time to grant her wish and take her back in time to change everything, to be given another chance to right all the wrongs she had done with her daughter. "So sorry…"

And once again, the tears came.

-o0o-

Michael Corwin was holding a plate of food her had cooked himself when his computer alerted him with a beep. He stopped dead and looked at the screen not far from him. He had a message on his email. He placed the plate down on the table next to the computer and opened his message. He smiled.

Invitation accepted by Gil Grissom.

Forgetting the plate, he stood up and walked away from the door he not too long ago emerged from and walked directly the door across the other. It was time to get ready to play. He had thirty minutes to set up everything.

"Time to pay," he muttered as he set up everything he had planned. "Time for everyone to pay."

With that thought Michael began to work on another computer. Everything had to go as planned and tonight and as long as it would take, he was going to cause them _all_ the pain they deserved. All of them for all the pain they caused _her. _

He would make them pay, make them feel sorry for everything and hurt for her. He promised to make them hurt, hurt as much as they hurt her. They hurt her and it hurt him. They had to pay, pay, pay, _pay_.

Then he'll make them see how much more hurt he can cause once he ultimately takes her away for good. Take her away from the pain and all the worst life had to offer her.

He promised he would make them hurt.

He promised her would save her.

And he will, by God, he _will_.

-o0o-

This really sucked, I know, I don't like this one too. Hate it. But I'm working on it!

::::I'm sorry about the Hodges bit, i just needed a filler and I kinda wanted to add him in::::

This really sucked, but please, comment and tell me what you think. Thanks so much for the comments again! I hope people are still reading this cause if not then I might not keep this going. Let me know, 'kay? xoxoiferleigh


	9. Chapter 9

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the one's you don't know are mine.

Note: would you consider this a filler?

-o0o0o0o-

Chapter Nine: Breathing and Pills

Grissom paced back and forth, waiting in front of the computer. He looked at the clock and saw that he still had seventeen minutes until the supposed time for the conference. Brass was outside, talking on the phone and with Ecklie doing the same thing not far from him. Warrick and Archie sat, discussing their chances of tracing the IP address and Michael Corwin's location.

Suddenly Greg and Nick came in, holding evidence boxes each. Grissom looked at them, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the layout room going over the evidence."

Greg nodded. "I know, but you have to see these."

"What is it?" Ecklie asked. "I just got off with McKeen, he's at the mayor's house for a dinner that we were supposed to attend. He's not happy about this."

Grissom ignored him. "What, Greg?"

Nick placed the box in front of him. "It's the leather volumes we collected from Corwin's house."

Greg pulled out one and flipped it open. "Look."

Everyone in the room gathered around the evidence. "What is this? It's a bunch of writings," Grissom said, feeling his patience grown thin. He wondered what was he suppose to be looking at.

"It's Catherine's," Warrick said from behind. "It's Cath's handwriting."

Realizing his miss, Grissom looked at Greg. "But Corwin's name is on the covers."

Greg nodded. "Yeah, but it's her journal."

"He's been obsessing over her, Griss, stalking and all," Nick said. "And evidently he's been getting inside her head too. He's been reading and copying her journal."

"Why would he copy her journal?" Archie asked as he looked on.

Grissom read some lines through then realized the answer. "He's been studying not only her, but everyone around her." He shook his head. "It's not just wanting to know…he's trying to control her life and what better way than to actually know her innermost thoughts? To actually go into her mind and see what she saw, know what she knew and possibly even feel what she felt. Through her journal he's living vicariously with her through it."

"That's just crazy," Warrick commented as he watched his supervisor flip page after page of the book.

"Stalking and kidnapping …" Greg said. "He is crazy."

"She dated all of this," Grissom muttered. "Greg, Nick I want all this arranged by date in the lay out room. I want to see a possible timeline on how long exactly he's been lurking or at least how long he's been reading this."

Greg looked at Nick and nodded. "We're on it."

"I'll be with you on the layout room later," Grissom said as he turned to Jim. "I still want to know everything on this guy, Jim," he said to Brass. "This guy is rich and he's bound to have real estate properties, if he's keeping her within the Nevada area or even Vegas, we can check through each and find her. We've got that chance."

Jim nodded. "I'll get it all started now."

Ecklie looked at Grissom. "McKeen is not happy that you're handling this due to lab policies and rules," he said. "He wants you off this but I convinced him this was a high profile case."

"Because she's one of ours?" Archie asked. "But it is against lab policy…"

Ecklie shook his head. "It's not just that, Mr. Johnson. If you've forgotten, Catherine was Sam Braun's only daughter and according to public knowledge, she was the sole beneficiary in his will, leaving her with everything, she's a Braun, technically, and that makes this a high profile case and top priority. Sam Braun's daughter, Gil, the press will pick up on this sooner or later and they will demand answers."

"Keep them out as much as you can," Grissom said. "I don't want press in on this. We can risk losing whatever chance we have. He's made contact already and he will again in maybe twenty minutes."

"I can only do so much, Gil," Ecklie said, almost miserably. "I managed to dodge McKeen and convinced him into letting your team take this."

Grissom nodded. "I know and I appreciate that and Catherine will feel the same too, I'm sure." He knew it must have hurt Ecklie's ego to put his team on the front line instead of his own, the dayshift. He realized then that maybe Conrad Ecklie was human after all; capable of understanding something that didn't involve the world of politics. And he sincerely meant that he appreciated what Ecklie had done.

"Just make sure nothing goes wrong," Ecklie said firmly. "It's my ass on the line as well as yours, but when the press gets in the way, it's your team and the lab's too."

"I know," Grissom said. "We're doing everything we can, you know that."

"I know," Ecklie nodded. "But right now I have to talk to the mayor, try to get him on the line. Keep me posted." He nodded then left, leaving Grissom to return to his focus.

Grissom turned to Archie and Warrick. "Let's keep going, shall we?"

Archie nodded. "We have about fifteen minutes left before the deadline. I've set up everything and I'm ready. We need him on the line to complete the search."

"We have to keep him talking," Grissom said with a nod.

-o0o-

Catherine still sat waiting, tears now dried against her cheeks after failing to wipe them away. She had thought about her daughter that led to her thinking about her dead ex-husband, Eddie. He had hurt her, she knew that, and almost everyone close to her knew that. She had put up with everything, the hurting, the physical and emotional abuse and supporting his addictions after she got off her own.

But thinking about her daughter seemed to make it worst for her as different scenarios began to play in her mind. Memories of the cases she handled in her twenty years as a CSI came back, only this time instead of the bodies of strangers, she saw her own body, lying dead on a children's sand box like the dominatrix Mona Taylor, or maybe sprawled in a parking lot with a hole in her head like Alice Granger the same night she met Adam Novak or maybe tied, gagged and dead like the coed and last victim of the Blue Paint Killer, Kaitlin Rackish. The thoughts made her heart race, her blood run cold with fear and her breathing harder. She thought the room was starting to spin as the images in her mind swam. She wanted to scream then, feeling the pressure on her chest start.

"Stop it," she hissed at herself, her hand on her chest while the other gripped the satin sheets on the bed. Her knuckle was already turning white as she held on, willing the room to stop spinning and the morbid images from her mind to disappear. "Breathe, Catherine, breathe…"

She lowered herself onto the bed, laying her head on a pillow and taking deep breaths. "Breathe…"

She forced the images from her mind and replaced them with happier memories, leading herself into a happy place where she was home, safe and sound with her daughter, her family and friends. "Breathe…" She tried to remember moments when she was safe, loved and happy. Her memories drifted her back to one night when Lindsey was still an infant and she was still a lab tech.

_Lindsey was crying again and Catherine though thankful for a healthy pair of lungs wished she wasn't such a screamer. She was almost due for her shift at the lab already and her baby was still screaming, not wanting to go to bed as if she sensed mommy was leaving again. It was bad enough Eddie wasn't around again and Nancy couldn't take her daughter, but her sitter had to pick this night, of all nights to be late._

_She picked up the crying baby and cooed softly, "Lindsey, hush baby, don't cry. Mommy's here don't cry, I'm here, hush..." Then the baby started to quiet down, reduced then to slight whimpers and sniffling. "There, there, you just wanted to be held now, right?"_

_Lindsey stared at her, her brown eyes, much like her father's, wide in wonder and seemingly glowing with love already. "You're beautiful, my Lindsey, beautiful. I love you, don't ever forget." And she hoped she wouldn't as she had been whispering the same words of love even before Lindsey was out of the womb. She knew she loved her daughter, the immediate connection was there and Catherine swore that even the gods wouldn't be able to touch her. She loved her daughter too much to see her hurt and crying. She had made a vow to protect her, love her and cherish her forever and she was determined to keep that promise. "I love you, Lindsey. Forever-forever"_

_She smiled as if she understood and held out a hand for a finger to grip and Catherine happily obliged._

"_You're a strong one, aren't you?" Catherine said with a giggle. "Yes, you are."_

_It was moments like these Catherine knew she would cherish forever._

_But the moment was broken suddenly by the melodious doorbell ringing through their home. "Who could that be, Lindsey? Do you think that's Maria now? She's going to take care of you tonight while Mommy gets some bad guys," she baby talked as she made her way to the front door._

_Lindsey giggled opened the door. "Gil! What are you doing here?" Catherine said with a surprised smile as Gil Grissom stood on her doorstep, smiling._

"_Hi Cath," he said with that usual boyish grin that made him look shy. "And hello, little Catherine," he said, caressing the cheek of the baby that lay in his friend's arms. The baby giggled and reached for a finger. "Oh, you want to play? With Uncle Gil?" Seemingly in the mood to impress, she gripped tight just like she had with her mother. "Wow, you're a strong one, eh? Just like Mommy?"_

_Catherine rolled her eyes, secretly loving the moments her best friend shared with her daughter. "It's Lindsey, Gil. Sheesh, you're not that old yet but you're already forgetting names."_

_Gil laughed. "Hello, Cath. Just dropping by to see if you've got to the lab yet, but I see you're still here..."_

"_Yeah," Catherine said, rolling her eyes as she stepped into her home with Grissom. "Maria seems to be running a little late and Eddie's out again, on another gig..." she trailed off and headed to the nursery._

_Grissom knew very well where Eddie was, with some other girl, probably having sex in some hotel, but he knew Catherine didn't know and only thought that Eddie was out promoting another band. Grissom always saw his aspiration and dream to be a big shot music producer pathetic, seeing that he was unfit for that kind of job. Grissom knew guys like Eddie would never be anything but atypical jerk, destined to continue taking his wife's hard earned money and squandering it on his selfish needs like drugs, booze and hookers instead of staying home and taking care of their baby instead of hiring a sitter._

_He was a lousy husband, an addict, a part time father and god knows what else. Catherine hadn't been open with him lately with regards to Eddie._

_Grissom wanted to tell the truth to Catherine, convince her Eddie wasn't worth it, but how would he do that and not cause her pain? He wasn't good with people, that was her and he couldn't take being the one to hurt her._

_But once again the doorbell rang, stopping Catherine in the middle of her ramblings and taking Grissom from his conflicting thoughts. She kissed him on the cheek and left to let the sitter in. Grissom stared at the child and smiled. "Hey, butterfly."_

_Then by the time Catherine got back into the nursery with Maria behind her as she rambled off the usual instructions, she came in to find Gilbert Grissom himself, holding her daughter close to his chest, kissing her softly on the forehead…_

_And singing._

_Catherine stood, entranced as she watched the CSI Bug Man/Tin Man with no emotions, hold her daughter like a precious gift, cradled gently in his arms like a cocooned butterfly. His voice, as he sang, drifted to her in a soft lulling lullaby:_

_Hush little baby, don't say a word_

_Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird_

_And if that mockingbird won't sing_

_Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring_

_Catherine leaned on the doorway, touched, as she watched her best friend hold her daughter. That was the same song Sam Braun used to sing to her every time he came over and stayed for the night. And now here she stood, watching another man, her best friend, sing the same song to her daughter. She wished she had a way to record this moment. She settled for memories, knowing she would remember this forever._

_And if that diamond ring is brass  
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass  
And if that looking glass gets broke  
Papa's gonna buy you a billy goat_

_She smiled as Grissom leaned down to kiss Lindsey once again on the forehead. She leaned against the doorway, listening him hold Lindsey and sing._

_Grissom smiled, seemingly unaware of his audience, singing the last part now with a smile._

_And if that horse and cart fall down  
you'll still be the sweetest little baby in town_

_He smiled as he finished the song, "I love you, Lindsey and Mommy will always love you too," he said in a soft voice as the baby yawned, her eyes now drifting close. "You find me that boring, butterfly?" he laughed. "You're just like your mother."_

_Catherine smiled tenderly and cleared her throat loudly, but not loud enough to disturb her daughter_

_Grissom turned, blushing furiously as he faced Catherine and Maria. "I—she—she was starting to fuss and I—sleep and I—she…" he stuttered nervously as if she'd caught him committing a crime._

_Catherine laughed, finding him adorable in such a ruffled state. "Its fine, Gil, but Maria's here already. We can get to the lab now." She to leave her daughter and she hated to take him away, but they both had jobs to do. Plus, she was aspiring to be a CSI like him and that required hard work an drive from her._

_Grissom smiled. "Right, uh, yeah…" he placed the sleeping baby in the crib again and tucked her in. "Goodnight, butterfly, sweetest dreams."_

_Catherine came in a pressed a feather light kiss on her baby's forehead. "Goodnight, baby, Mommy will be home soon. I love you." She turned to Maria and gave her last minute instructions and left with Grissom following meekly behind._

_She didn't mention anything again, except for giving him a soft kiss on the cheek and thanking him for loving her daughter. He smiled, taking it as a sign that she was okay that he was getting close to her daughter. In a soft whisper he said to her, "I'll always love Lindsey, she's a part of you."_

_And it was a moment never to be forgotten, and a moment to be told to Lindsey who would ask it to be told over and over again when she was a small child, never tiring of the old story._

With a small, sad smile Catherine remembered the fond moments when Lindsey would beg to hear the story and the song again. She sighed as she was reminded it had been a long time since Lindsey asked to hear the story and the song. That Lindsey was gone now to be replaced by the angry teenager that she was. Catherine knew her Lindsey was still there, but it didn't matter now and she prayed silently that she would get a chance to see her daughter again, no matter who she was.

She never really saw herself as a firm believer in God, especially in her field of work where Science stood to defy the beliefs and the teachings and the viciousness of the crimes committed tend to make one's faith crumble and question how God could let something like that happen.

But as she lay she prayed that soon she would be taken home to be with the ones she loved most.

She then forgot about breathing and the tightening in her chest.

-o0o-

Michael carried the tray of food, feeling happy now that he wasn't far from starting his own game. Like a boy, he couldn't wait to start playing. He just needed something from his Catherine and everything would be perfect then.

He carried the tray and opened the door, hoping she hadn't fallen asleep. He wished he had taken the food earlier. He'd made her wait too long it seemed. "Catherine?"

He found her in bed, curled up and he could hear her breathing deep in and out. He placed he tray on the chair and hurried to her side. "Catherine?"

She shook her head, breathing in harder. She tried t push him away, weakly.

"Catherine, what's wrong?" he asked softly, he was getting worried now. "Catherine?"

She gripped his arm, her knuckle white as sheet, her eyes wide. He watched her for a moment before realize what was happening.

She was having a panic attack. He had read it in her journals. When was the last time she had one? He tried to recall what she had written, but couldn't. He laid her down on the bed, gasping air in and out and clutching at the sheets. "I'll be back, Catherine, hang on," he promised as he hurried out.

Rushing to his main room he grabbed his kit and pulled out a bottle of Xanax, thankful he had remembered to bring them in case he or she needed it. He cursed himself for leaving her wide awake for too long. This was going to potentially hurt his plans and maybe Catherine too.

He couldn't risk that.

He rushed, bottle of pills and water in his hands. He pulled her head on his lap and placed a pill into her mouth, but she spat it out and shook her head. It was just like her that even in her dire time of need she would refuse help willingly offered. Just like Sam had said about her.

"No," she said with a gasp. She could feel the tightening on her chest get worst.

"Take it, Catherine," he ordered. "You know you need this."

She looked at him as he slipped another pill pass through her lips. Her chest was heaving as he placed the bottle to her lips and she drank. She swallowed obediently and looked at him, her breathing evening out, but her eyes were full of questions.

He nodded. "Good," he eased her back to lie in be properly. "I've brought you something to eat, but you can rest for now."

She eased herself back to a sitting position and looked at him intently. "How did you know?"

He looked away. "I'll be back later, eat and rest, whichever you prefer first."

"How long have you been following me?" came an accusing tone, surprising them both at how strong and loud she sounded. He could see the fire in her eyes.

Michael looked at her. "A long time…"

She shook her head. "Did Sam put you up to this? Did he ask you to follow me?"

"No," he said firmly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked at the feisty woman in front of him. Anger and fire burned in her eyes, though he could see she was clearly tired and worn out. He wondered why the pill he gave her wasn't kicking in. "If Sam ever knew…he would have had me killed in an instant."

"I wish he had," she spat. "You perverted, sick son of a—"

"I am not!" he screamed, making her back off and shrink away on the bed slightly. "I watched over you, don't you get it? I loved you, isn't it obvious? I knew what you were going through, but I couldn't outright just go to you so I resorted to watching over you!"

Catherine stared at him, confused as whether to think him insane and delusional or potentially real. She didn't even know him, but he stood, looking at her and declaring love like in one of those stupid chick flicks she and her daughter used to love watching together.

He started pacing. "I knew, the moment I saw you I had to watch over you! You're such a tough talking stubborn girl you forget you're just that, a girl! You danced on that goddamned stage every fucking night and I was there!"

"What?" she gasped out. He couldn't have been watching her for that long now, right? How could she not notice, she wondered. Suddenly, all the years of her life seemed tainted, like the special moments she shared with others were now no longer special because he had been there, watching, intruding.

"Yes, I was there! I was there through everything!" he screamed. "I watched you and though you may have thought people didn't see but I saw the bruises, Catherine." He looked at her, his dark eyes pained as if he knew exactly what she had gone through. "I saw it all, even the way your blue eyes dulled when you took cocaine just to take your mind off the perverts that watched you. I was there, I saw everything…it took everything I had not to kill Eddie Willows myself."

She stared at him, shocked at his revelation, her mind spinning whether to believe him or not.

He shook his head, "I don't even know why you were so goddamned in love with him, he was a fucking bastard and he was abusing you!"

"What the hell…" Catherine muttered, putting a hand on her head. "God, I must be losing my mind…" she wobbled up off the bed as she continued to mutter to herself, telling herself not to lose her mind. She was starting to feel dizzy now and even high like she just smoked a line of coke.

Through his ramblings and his own muttering, Michael had not noticed his captive start walking away from her bed. He was looking at his feet as he paced back and forth, failing to notice the wobbling blonde as she made her way to the door. "I mean…he was a—" he stopped then he caught sight of her finally, almost in front of him now, holding her head unsteadily. "Catherine!"

"You-you're a…I'm dreaming—a nightmare," she whispered as her mind got even more fogged. She was sure she was about to pass out now. She took a step then tripped on her own foot and felt herself falling. She braced herself for the inevitably painful drop, but it didn't happen.

"God, you are trouble," she heard him mutter as he hoisted her in his arms. "Thank god for medication…"

"Fuck you…" she whispered before she slipped into the black fog. She saw his face, felt him sweep her off her feet literally before completely blacking out.

He shook his head and laid her back in bed, thankful that his last task was going to be much easier now thanks to Xanax.

-o0o-

She was tied and gagged and the tears had long gone, residue being the only thing left on her paling cheeks. The gag covered most of her face, covering her lips and her nose. She didn't know why she was here or who had brought her here.

All she was sure of was she was terrified, her throat was parched from all the screaming she had done, she was almost nude and she was going to die soon.

She let out a soft whimper. She was still young, at least young enough for her, and she still had a life to live. She didn't want to die like this. She had planned on dying, maybe from cancer, where she could prepare. She hadn't even been to Paris yet or New York or London or even Asia. She wasn't even married yet, no boyfriend, nothing.

Not like this,

Almost naked, beaten, dirty and tied up, definitely not a way to go. She did not want to be on the evening news.

But she was here now and she was sure she was going to die. Soon.

-o0o-

Grissom sat in his seat in front of the unit Archie had prepared for him. Brass was in the room with him along with Ecklie and Warrick. Archie was putting the final set ups in his unit, typing furiously and muttering sometimes some sort of technological lingo that Grissom couldn't catch.

They had two minutes left.

He felt the tension building within him and inside the room he was in itself. He reminded himself to maintain control that he should if he wanted to get Catherine back.

"Lily's coming here right after the cruise, she's frantic," Brass said gruffly. "She's tried to stop the cruise to let her off, but even Braun's name couldn't stop that."

Grissom nodded. "And Lindsey?"

"Lily said she'll pick her up before coming here," Brass informed. "What are you going to tell her, Gil?"

"I don't know," Grissom said quietly. "I haven't talked to Lindsey in a long time…she's grown very much now, I'm sure. She's what, sixteen now?"

Brass nodded. "Yeah."

"She's angry, about so many things," Warrick said suddenly, quietly. "She would want to know as much as possible about Catherine."

"We'll tell her enough," Brass said. "Lily will be with her."

Grissom sat, wondering how Warrick could know that when he didn't even have a clue how Lindsey was. When was the last time he had talked to the girl? What was she so angry about?

"What about her sister?" Warrick asked.

Brass sighed. "She's in Europe right now with her family and we can't reach her, but Lily said she'll take care of that."

"How is Lily? How is she handling this?" Warrick asked, afraid for the old woman. She had just lost

Sam, how was she supposed to deal with losing Catherine?

"Doing fine, actually, she sounded frantic at first, but then she just got herself together," Brass said. "I was worried for a moment, but now she's completely together. She's taking over the reins."

Grissom suddenly felt like an outsider. Warrick was asking the questions he was suppose to be thinking and answering. That was supposed to be him. He's known her longer, right?

At some point, didn't she tell him he was her best friend?

He was her best friend, her confidant.

Then a nagging little voice suddenly said, _not anymore_.

-o0o0o0o0o-

I know this wasn't that good, but I would really appreciate if someone would at least give me a sign that they're reading and leave a teeneetiny review. That would be awesome, you know I love them!

I'll try to review asap, I know I have been slow. I'm real sorry!


	10. Chapter 10

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the one's you don't know are mine.

**thank you for the reviews! you know i love them and i hope you're not so pissed this took so long, but please, keep reading. There's more to come because i intend to finish this.**

Note: **The miniature killer never happened.** Period. It just cuts through my timeline for this and it totally magnified GSR and you know I'm supa-dupa-pro Grillows—_and_ because we have this journal thing now it should cue you in now that we will see **lots of spoilers**. I'm putting some made up cases in between where the miniature killer came in.

Note2: **The timeline is based on the corresponding original air dates of CSIbased on CSI: wiki files.** So if you find my errors, sorry, but I'd rather base it there to make it easierfor me.

-o0o0o0o-

Chapter Ten: Memories, Forgiving and the Meeting

Greg let out a puff of breath as he scanned through the pages, trying hard not to read the words and concentrate on the dates written at the top pages. "Wow, Cath wrote a lot…"

"Well, she had to do something to keep herself sane in this job," Nick said as he too was doing the same. "So far we've gone as far back as almost mid-2004…"

"What happened during almost mid-2004?" Greg asked as he flipped through the pages. "I have September 2004 for here…"

"I'm trying not to read here, Greg, so I don't know," Nick said as he wrote down on his notes, listing the dates he found.

Greg nodded. "I know, but maybe we'll find something. You know, evidence? We kinda need that in this job and we need _it_ to find Catherine?"

Nick shrugged. "I just…you know, I just don't feel right about reading Cath's journals, you know…it's like intruding on her life or something." His southern morals never failed him. Nick always believed his parents tried their best to raise him right and he did not feel comfortable about letting them down.

Greg shrugged. "Yeah, but we're trying to figure out a timeline here, right?"

Nick shrugged. "I'd feel better if someone told me to actually read through it…"

Greg opened his mouth to reply, but a knock interrupted them. "How's the timeline going?"

"Hey, Rick," Nick said, thankful to be saved from Greg's persuasion, knowing the younger CSI was good in cunning plans and he would have had no chance. "Earliest we got is May 2004, but we haven't gotten through the others yet." He nodded towards the pile.

"And I told him to at least see what happened on some dates to find out if she had any idea about Corwin," Greg interjected.

Nick shook his head. "You did not say anything like that, man."

"I was going to," Greg said with a small grin.

Warrick shook his head. "You two about done here?"

Nick looked at his notes. "We have a few more, but I got this one…" he looked at his notes. "From September 2006—that's five months ago."

Warrick nodded, his green eyes clouding. "And that's around Sam Braun's death."

Looking back at his notes, Nick nodded. "Right."

Greg nodded. "Oh, right…Sam."

"Where's that journal?" Warrick asked and took the journal Nick handed him. He started opening the pages, passing each one after a glance.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked as he watched his friend.

"Sam died that time and at that same time, Lindsey was kidnapped and before that she thought she'd been drugged and raped," Warrick muttered. "She had to have written something. That time was one of the few times we paid attention to her even when we already knew…" he searched through pages.

Nick looked at Greg who shrugged with an "I don't know" look.

Warrick stopped when he found the page and set the book down in front of them. "Even when we already knew we weren't all there for her. Griss just had a last minute quadruple homicide that morning she woke up in that motel and he had Sara, you and Greg with him, Sofia too…Everyone was just all over the place that time, right? And when we were all actually working on it, save Griss, we were all too caught up with Lindsey's kidnapping to actually do something or say something to her…"

Nick nodded. "Or she wouldn't let us say anything. I tried to apologize to her, but she said they would have gotten her one way or another anyway…"

Warrick nodded. "And when we found Lindsey Cath was focused on bringing her home and dealing with Sam so we had no chance of catching up with her…messy family stuff."

Greg nodded. "Can't blame her, with a thug for a dad…"

"Greg," Nick said, shaking his head. "I don't think Sam or Cath would appreciate you calling him a thug 'cause compared to Tony Constantine…Sam would have looked like a saint."

Greg shrugged. "Well…"

Warrick held up his hand, "_Sam died today. My father died, shot twice in front of the Tangiers…in front of me. We were talking; I was asking him if he already had the guy who used me and Lindsey to get to him killed. I remember he just laughed and said he had no idea what I was talking about. I remember looking behind him and seeing someone who looked familiar, I was trying to place him, who he was and what he was holding…I reacted too late, I my thoughts were so all over the place that I realized too late he was holding a gun. I tried to warn him, but I was too late. Next thing I knew he was staggering back and me, trying to catch him as he fell…I don't know, I think I screamed…I don't know, I think I called for help…but I remember, holding him, his eyes were wide and the color was draining from his face, his injured body too heavy for me to bear along with the shock…I still see the bullet holes on his body, how he limped against me as he lay dying…I caught him as he fell, but I let him die…if only I had reacted sooner, if I just looked closer…I would have seen it coming…My father lay dying in my arms and it was all my fault and I couldn't do anything…I cried for help, but I knew it was too late…I didn't realize I was crying until I saw my tears fall on his face…his eyes were open, staring out to nowhere…he was dead and I still sit here, blaming myself…"_

Nick shook his head, as if he felt the weight of her emotions onto him. "I read the statements, it wasn't her fault. The guy came from nowhere and they were both talking. She wouldn't have seen it coming." He shook his head. "It wasn't her fault."

"But if you were in her place and it was your dad," Greg said, a look of seriousness passing on his face, his normally playful eyes sad and dark. "Would you think that? She just witnessed her father's murder."

Warrick ignored them as kept reading. "_I can hear Lindsey crying from her room, she wouldn't talk to me…God, it feels like Eddie all over again…my mother left, I don't know where, but the man Sam had left to look after her followed. I didn't know what to tell her. What do you say to someone who lost someone they truly loved? What do you say to someone who just lost a part of themselves? With my mother, losing Sam was like losing a part of herself…I understand that now, their relationship…it took them a long time to find their way back to each other, but in the end they lived and loved…he loved her, I've always known that, even when I was a child and she loved him. All those years, all those tears…she loved him and she never stopped even when he left. They always found their ways back to each other…"_

Greg shook his head. "Wow, so the stories are true. Cath did grow up with Sam around."

"She was his daughter, his only girl, he wanted to be a part of her life," Warrick said, nodding. "Sam was a mob guy, a murderer even, a cold, money grabbing tycoon, but when it came to Cath? As much as it's hard to believe he's capable of it, he loved her and whether she's ready to admit it or not, she loved him too."

Nick nodded, but suddenly shook his head. "Man what are we doing? We're supposed to be working, not reading Cath's journal. Aren't you supposed to be at the A/V lab?"

Warrick nodded. "Archie finished all the preparations; we've got a few minutes left. Griss told me to make the rounds."

"So Grissom's about to talk to that lunatic? Man, I'd like to see that." Greg said.

"Yeah," Nick said with a shrug. "But I think we gotta finish these first."

Warrick sighed as he continued to read, Catherine's words pulling him back into her world. "_They always go. Always. All of them .Either they die or they walk away. Nobody ever stays…and I can't help but think it's my fault. Sam walked away from me, walked away from my mother, but I can't help but think maybe he left because of me…he was, content to just come around when he can or wanted to…or when my mother and him weren't fighting…The night Stephanie died; I left her because of Eddie and a stupid gig. God, if I'd only stayed…The night Ed died, I fought with him and Lindsey was so mad she wanted him and not me…I'd almost lost her that night all because I was so mad at her father. Then there was Mike…if I'd only come sooner…he would have lived, but he saved me. He saved me, but I couldn't save him…and now, Sam. God, who's next? They're all gone and they were all my fault, all of them. I must be cursed..."_

Greg shook his head. "Stephanie Watson? The one with Jimmy Tadero? That's an open case; we found new evidence a few years back. Someone killed her in a back alley, right? Behind the French Palace? What's she talking about there?"

Warrick sighed. "Eddie had a gig that night and that time everything was still good, Cath was always present to support him and his bands. The sex, the drugs—everything, living like the rock star Eddie thought he was and she went along. She bailed out on Stephanie to go with Ed and by the time she got back, Stephanie was already dead."

Nick nodded. "What about the rest? Sam, Lindsey, Eddie and Mike Keppler?"

"You know how the human mind works," Warrick explained. "You know how Cath's mind works. You know at least the important details of everything that happened there. No matter what anyone would tell her, she will always blame herself. Even the one with Sam, she was a kid then, what did she know? …Cath was never good at forgiving herself."

-o0o-

Michael smiled as he checked his watched. He had two minutes left and it was time to go. He looked at Catherine as she lay, unconscious. "Good night, my dear," he said softly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "I'll make things right for you." He threw the satin sheets over her body. "I promise."

With on last look he silently slid out of the room, hoping that when she woke up she would start to eat. He wanted her strong, he needed her alive.

He had to tell her so many things, open her eyes and see the reality of everything. She had been blinded for far too long and he had to save her before it killed her soul and inevitably destroy her. 

He wanted his plans to go perfectly.

He had two minutes left.

-o0o-

Grissom sat himself down, clenching and unclenching his fists as he waited. Anytime now he was about to meet the Michael Corwin character who took Catherine from everything. He hoped he would be able to control himself. He was always a calm man, he believed that, but he knew that after their last moment together, the fight with Sara, having everyone know about Sara and him, finding out about Catherine's abduction and evidences leading nowhere near finding her, plus the fact that Corwin seemed to be one step ahead of them and planned to lead him just where he wanted him…

He was near breaking point, he knew. And a confrontation with Michael Corwin might just take everything out of him.

He was sick of playing games, sick of fighting an enemy he didn't know and couldn't see, but he felt sick thinking it was only beginning.

The ringing of his phone pulled him from his conflicting thoughts. His hope grew a little when he saw the name on the screen. "Brass?"

"Yeah, it's me. We've got some places to look at. Other than that Corwin house we went to I found another one in Centennial Park and one in Carson City. I've contacted some people to search the place in Carson. If he's there or he's hiding her there, we'll find her. I'm heading to Centennial now."

Grissom let out his breath through his nose. "Good. Keep me posted, we're about to meet with Corwin. Archie's got everything ready, be ready just in case we get a location."

"Yeah," Brass said. "Listen, Gil, she's going to be…"

"Fine," Grissom said, cutting him off. "And it will all be over. I keep telling myself that but for some reason…I don't quite believe it."

"We'll get her back," Brass said reassuringly.

"When? How?" Grissom said, clutching his phone. "This guy has been planning this for years, Jim, premeditation at its best…he's not going to let her go that easy…"

"Gil," Brass said firmly. "Shut up, all right? You're not helping me, you're not helping her and you are damn well not helping yourself. Just get to work. Talk to the S.O.B., ask him what he wants and concentrate on getting her back."

Grissom nodded as he took a deep breath. "You're right…"

"I know I am," the captain said. "Now get working, I'll keep you posted."

Grissom shut his phone and looked down, staring hard at the computer keyboard in front of him. He stared hard at the keys until the letters didn't make sense to him. He had to focus, at least on something, or else his mind will start to wander again. He let his mind wander when he was talking to Brass and that was not helping at all. He wanted to believe it was near over.

But wanting to believe was never really the same as having it as a reality, right?

-o0o-

Michael smiled as his watch ticked near the deadline he had given them. Any minute now he was about to meet _him_, the very man who could cause his love so much pain yet at the same time give her such happiness that he knew he could never give her even if he tried.

But _he _has been causing her more pain than happiness lately and that was not acceptable.

Michael had read the last few of her journals and it was right then he knew it was time to do something. He was not about to continue to let her sit and endure the pain alone. He promised himself he would take revenge for her and he will.

And his promise was about to be fulfilled.

Soon.

-o0o-

Nick looked at Warrick who was staring at the journals while Greg continued with his work. "What are you thinking, Rick?"

Warrick looked at Nick. "What's the earliest date again?"

Greg buried himself through the journals. "This one starts around mid February…2003." He looked at the two CSIs. "What happened there?"

Warrick grabbed the journal. _"Eddie died today. He laid there, in the morgue, pale, cold, unmoving and dead. Dead. I didn't know what to do. I felt so many rush of emotions…anger, sadness, loss, anger, anger and anger. I wanted to pull him up, scream at him to open his eyes and say everything I wanted to say. I was so angry at him for nearly taking Lindsey away from me forever…I wanted to cry too…for I loved him once, he was once my husband…and not everything had been bad. He loved me and took care of me at the beginning…I stared at his body, no longer the same man I used to know…What was I suppose to feel? Why did I feel the loss I did not expect to feel? A part of me thinks I should be relieved he's gone…that he won't be around to hurt me anymore…but then a part of me cries for my daughter who will have to grow up without a father…and it's worst because she's going to grow up, knowing her daddy was murdered and he super mom CSI couldn't even catch the bad guy that hurt her daddy…what am I suppose to do? He was the worst husband, but he was the best father for her. I cry for my daughter, I cry for our past, I cry for the love we once had, I cry for the pain he caused me and Lindsey, I still cry for him. While I was at the morgue…I just stared at him…a part of me was thankful that Al told me the morgue wasn't the right place to say goodbye, yet at the same time I felt angry for his intruding at what might have been my last moment with Eddie—"_

Nick shook his head. "All right, that's enough." He sighed. "I think we've established that this was around Eddie's death."

Warrick looked at Greg who only shrugged. Why was Nick so reluctant to hear what Catherine had written, Warrick wondered. "Right," he said as he put the book down. "Uh, did you go to the funeral, Nick?"

Nick shook his head. "I—no, I had plans I couldn't break."

"I didn't know about the funeral until it was done," Greg said with a shrug. "I was still a lab tech then so you know..."

Warrick shook his head. "I didn't get to go too. It was at Eddie's parent's house in Pahrump." He sighed. "I had plans at the Community Center that time."

"Did Grissom go?" Greg asked.

"We'll try to find out then," Warrick turned a few pages. "_We buried Eddie today. I wanted to cry, I did, a little, but I couldn't let myself break down in front of Eddie's parents and my Lindsey. I had to be strong for her…she wouldn't speak, she just stared and cried. I didn't know what to do, she wouldn't say anything, wouldn't eat, she just wanted to cry…Nancy came, thank God…I don't think I would have survived without anyone with me…it's not always easy to be strong alone in times like this…Nick and Warrick couldn't make it…and for some reason I couldn't reach Gil…where was he? He should know I need him now more than I have for a while now…we've drifted apart, but I didn't think he keep his distance when I need him like this…where was he? God, so many whispers have been going around the lab…they say Gil was at Lady Heather's the night Eddie died…he wouldn't do that, would he? He wouldn't leave me and Lindsey to cry at home alone just to go to a dominatrix, right? He wouldn't do that…Gil wouldn't._

Greg shook his head. "She wouldn't believe it."

Nick and Warrick looked at the former lab tech who was also the former gossip front runner in the lab. "What are you talking about?"

"What she wrote, I mean," Greg said with a shrug. "Because he did go to…" he trailed off upon seeing the looks on his friends' faces. "What, you didn't know? He did go to Lady Heather…"

Nick shook his head. "He didn't—he couldn't have. She challenged him, yeah, she stimulated him, but you don't really think he would…" he looked at Greg's face. "He wouldn't, would he?" he turned to Warrick. "He wouldn't have formed a relationship with Lady Heather, right?"

Warrick looked at Greg. "How sure are you about this?"

Greg shrugged. "Pretty sure, but you really didn't know?"

Warrick shook his head. "Obviously not, it's hard to believe he'd have a relationship with that dominatrix…it's just…I don't know."

Greg grinned a little. "Yeah, and it's hard to believe he'd have a relationship with Sara too."

Nick shook his head. "That's different."

"No, it's not," Greg insisted. "Do you have any idea how many times I asked her out? Tons."

"That's not exactly the surprise of the century, Greg," Warrick said dryly, reaching for another journal. "You're not exactly Sara's boyfriend material."

Greg decided not to comment on that. "Yeah, but what about him?" he motioned with his head to Nick who was raised an eyebrow.

"What about me?"

"She shot you down too and you were everybody's bet for Sara," Greg said. "But she shot you down too every time you asked."

Nick shook his head. "Now in what hole did you dig that from now?"

"People talk, Nick, and they talk about you too."

"Well that's comforting."

Warrick shook his head. "Don't we have evidence to process?"

Greg looked at Nick who ducked, muttering an agreement. All three men continued their work until Greg looked at Warrick. "She shot you down."

Nick looked at Warrick in disbelief. "You and Sara?"

Warrick shook his head. "Now _that's_ bull."

Greg waved his arms around. "No! I mean, Catherine. You asked her out, didn't you? She shot you down too, except for that bet she lost with you."

Warrick shook his head. "She bet on a game for a fabulous dinner on me, but lost. But I took her out anyway. We had a good time, but it wasn't a date."

"Yeah, because she shot you down," Greg piped in.

Nick tried not to smile.

Warrick looked at Greg. "You know, I'd deck you on any other day."

Greg stepped back. "Right, mouth close…More mission rescue Catherine boss lady."

Warrick shook his head while Nick smiled a little.

At least they still managed to distract themselves from the reality they were facing. It would have been easy to lose themselves in the case and in the process, tire their bodies and souls, affecting their efficiency. It was only a small luxury to have a short escape after having had a glimpse into the mind of their tired, broken and missing colleague and friend.

They were coping.

-o0o-

A window opened and Grissom turned to see Archie give him the go signal. He took a deep breath before grabbing the mouse and clicking to begin the conference. Somewhere behind him, he sensed rather than saw Ecklie hovering tensely, coming in just in time with the results after talking to the mayor. Grissom could almost predict what had transpired in that call.

He had more important matters at hand.

The screen came alive, revealing a handsome Caucasian man with dark features. He would have been the typical male who would have gotten Catherine's attention, maybe even Grissom's as well. He had a mysterious aura and a pleasant smile that was almost enigmatic. The man exuded charisma that even men would notice. "Mr. Corwin?"

"Mr. Grissom," he said with a smooth voice. "It's a pleasure to finally see you. I know so much about you, but it's always different for me when I actually meet someone. Especially someone so special like you, she did you justice, Catherine."

Grissom looked at the man, noting that his suit looked very much expensive, not like the suits he rarely wore, the ones for court. This one was trimmed to fit him well, black pin strip suite with what seemed to be gold cufflinks. Grissom thought it could be Armani. He wasn't into labels, but he knew enough of the design. The handsome mystery sat with his leg crossed over the other on a beautifully carved chair.

He was everything Grissom had expected him to be: mysterious, elegant, obviously rich, but in a quiet sort of way. He knew this type of man liked being in the dark and alone.

"You are everything I expected you to be, Mr. Corwin," Grissom said calmly. "As to meeting you, I wish I could say the same of you, but under the circumstances…" he straightened up. "Where's Catherine?"

Michael smiled. "She's a little preoccupied at the moment. She's resting."

Grissom tried to make himself that she was indeed just resting, sleeping and safe, untouched and unharmed in any way. But images came haunting him—mangled, broken, bloody, _dead_.

It must have shown in his eyes for Michael smiled and said, "It is up to you to believe me or not, but she is fine. I'd show her to you, but I'd rather not disturb her. She's asleep."

Drugged or truly asleep, Grissom wondered. "What do you want? Why did you take her?"

Michael smiled. "I have my reasons."

"We want her back, she's important to us, she has a daughter and a mother," Grissom said. "What do you demand?"

"You're attention," Michael said. "Undivided attention, yours, Mr. Grissom and the rest of the people I'd like to once and for all meet. I want to see them."

"Who?" Grissom asked.

"Do you promise that you will call upon all the names I say and have them there with you the next time I contact you again?" Michael asked, folding his hands together.

Grissom nodded. "Yes, if…"

"No ifs, no buts," Michael said. "Give me your word that you will have them."

Grissom nodded. "_If_ they're alive and well, yes. I give you my word."

Michael smiled, displaying his perfect and white teeth and said, "I want your team: Warrick Brown, Nicholas Stokes, Sara Sidle and Greg Sanders."

Grissom nodded. "They're here, so yes. I'll have them here."

Michael smiled, evidently pleased. "I want Jim Brass, Lindsey Willows and Conrad Ecklie." He thought for a moment. "And also, Sofia Curtis, if that's possible. I rather like her, she would be interesting to talk to."

"Lindsey is still being picked up by her grandmother," Grissom informed.

Michael nodded. "I know, but she will be there soon. Bring her there with you. She's important in all this. She is, after all, Catherine's daughter."

Grissom nodded. "Fine. Anyone else?"

"You'll know soon, but next time I want them all here," he smiled. "And, Mr. Johnson, I do hope you at least managed to find which state I'm currently in, as I'm sure you're listening in."

Grissom's eyes widened as he whipped around to find Archie staring at him in surprise.

Michael smiled. "Good bye for now, Mr. Grissom. I'll be in contact soon again."

With that, the screen went black to be replaced by a digital clock, the neon green numbers bright as it counted down to an hour.

He was gone.

Grissom turned to Archie whose fingers were working furiously over his keyboard. "Archie, did you get anything?"

Archie shook his head. "I couldn't get anything! He blocked me with block after block. He's using powerful blockers, I can't break them all, most of them have codes, and some even attacked me."

"Viruses?" Ecklie shook his head at the confirmation. "You mean even our software can't penetrate him and at the same time he's sending us viruses?"

Archie shook his head. "I can keep trying, but it's going to take a while. I'm still blocked in. Whatever he's using, it's powerful, superior, or maybe it's a variety of protective programs."

"So no location? Not even a state?" Ecklie asked.

Archie shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, no."

Grissom shook his head. "We need everyone he called in."

Ecklie nodded. "Yes, and it seems I'm one of them."

"This guy is good, Conrad, he's planning something for all of us," Grissom said, slipping his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. He was starting to feel a migraine coming on. "He's been planning this for years."

Ecklie shook his head. "No shit." He turned to Archie. "Keep working at it. You're good, you're bound to break in some time."

"He knows we were trying to locate him," Archie said. "He prepared for it. He's good; he knows what he's doing…that is if he hasn't got anyone helping him."

Grissom shook his head. "Conrad, just get everyone he wanted in here. He knows Lindsey is on her way, send a patrol for her now. Put in an APB, I don't like that he knows. Have her ride in one of our government issued cars and tow in the one she's on right now to the garage."

Ecklie looked at him. "You think he bugged them?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did," Grissom said, opening his eyes.

"I'll have days and swing process evidence, your people need to turn them in before coming in here," Ecklie said. "Who knows how long is this going to take."

Grissom agreed, nodding. "Get them here, I'll talk to them. I'll call in Jim; he's in Centennial Park right now."

Ecklie nodded, surprising Grissom and Archie in his compliance. "I'll have them in then."

Grissom nodded, turning back to the screen, staring as the seconds ticked by. Pulling out his phone as he kept his eyes on the numbers, he called Brass. "Brass, plans havechanged. We need you in here. Now."

-o0o0o0o0o-

I know it's been a long, long, long, long time, but I hope this was good enough. It's summer here now so I have time. Expect updates because I'm really working on them right now. Promise!

Please don't hate me! this will be completed, but it'll take time. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! Love it? Hate it? should i keep going? oh, just tell me!xoxo


	11. Chapter 11

Tattered and Broken, Stolen

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the ones you don't know are mine.

Note: Thanks for the awesome reviews! Please forgive me for not updating as fast 'cause my grandfather had a stroke and well, he means a lot more to me than writing. Please understand! He's doing well now so here I am, back again.

Note2: Oh and don't worry, Grissom _will be_ reading the journals. Don't worry and oh! About the Eddie's funeral? I'm making Gil look so bad, I'm sorry! But this is a Grillows fic so you know he'll be good in the end.

Note3: I really love the opinions and feedbacks on Michael Corwin's character. You all really hate him, huh? I really enjoyed reading how you guys are feeling about him. I get a sick kick out of it! Teehee just kidding!

-o0o0o0o-

Chapter Eleven: Gathering

Warrick looked up just in time to see Ecklie come to the doors of the room they were occupying. Nick and Greg looked at the Assistant Director without a word.

"Stokes, Brown, Sanders, put down those evidence, hand them to the Swing and Day shift members. I already called them in," Ecklie barked. "And go to the A/V Lab ASAP."

Nick shook his head, "Sorry, but no can do. You can talk to Griss if you want us off, until then, we're staying right here."

Ecklie rolled his eyes. "Your supervisor called you, he just finished talking to Corwin and yes, he confirmed he has Catherine and isn't demanding anything as of now."

"No ransom?" Greg asked.

Ecklie shook his head," As of now, no."

Warrick stood up. "What? What does he want then? What did he say?"

"Just talk to your supervisor," Ecklie said. "Where's Sidle?"

Greg looked at the other two, "She's doing research on Corwin."

Ecklie nodded, glacing at his beeper when it beeped and vibrated. "The Swing shift on call just came in, hand in your evidence and proceed to the A/V Lab and hurry; we don't have time to waste."

Nick looked at Warrick and Greg then nodded. "We'll be there."

Ecklie nodded. "I'm gonna go get Sidle then."

The Assistant Director left and the three CSI's began to document and fill out their evidence and notes, their minds focused on what could have gone on during the brief meeting.

-o0o-

Sara was pouring through what little record they had of Michael Wilcox-Corwin, son of the late couple, James Edward Corwin and Annette Marie Wilcox. She had read through and took notes of everything for the fourth time in a row. She had run different possible aliases, even names of his father and mother in combinations, but so far she had come up empty.

She was frustrated. This guy was too good to be true.

She leaned back in her seat, glaring at the screen in front of her, Corwin's ID picture looking back at her with his handsome features. She wondered how someone so rich, powerful and good looking would revert to stalking, kidnapping and felony.

Michael Corwin could have been a perfect man for any girl, especially a girl like Catherine. He would have attracted her attention in an instant. Sara wondered why he would do such things just to have her, if that alone was his reason.

She thought maybe he had issues to deal with, obviously he wasn't right in his mind, but at the same time she was sure he might have some insecurity issues too. Suddenly, as much as she was frustrated and annoyed with the man, she was intrigued by him.

"Sidle," Ecklie suddenly said as he appeared by the doorway. "Turn your notes in to the Day shift on call, Ramirez. She'll take over for you, she's on her way. Right now we need you at the A/V Lab."

Sara looked at the screen then back at Ecklie. "What? We're working this case…"

"I know, but Gil talked to Corwin and he wants you all there," Ecklie said. "Hurry and make sure you turn everything in. Be there ASAP, you don't have time to lose."

Sara looked at Ecklie then nodded. "I'll be there."

Ecklie nodded and left.

With one last look at Michael Corwin's picture before standing up, she knew she didn't need her notes. She had gone through his short file enough to have memorized it all down to the last comma and period.

She was sure they had news and it was time to gather up everyone. It was time for another briefing to see where everyone was, to see how close _or _far they were to finding Catherine.

Sara felt she wasn't' ready, she needed and wanted more time.

But it wasn't about the case she wasn't ready about.

It was _him_.

It was time to face Grissom again.

She sighed and left the room, her notes held securely in her trembling hands.

-o0o-

Michael sat back in his seat, quite pleased with himself. He wondered if he had done all right on his first run. He shrugged and thought he could do better, but it didn't matter now. He had made his first move and he was content with that for now.

He checked his watch and smiled for the meeting was brief enough and as far as he knew, the lab tech hadn't tracked him down at all. He knew, in due time, based on what Catherine had written on her journals, the lab tech was bound to catch on. She had written enough for him to know the lab tech was brilliant at what he did. He counted on the comforting thought that it could take the young Mr. Archie Johnson a bit longer.

And that he had all the time he needed.

But he had reached his first easy goal, there were more to go.

Right now, he had a guest to attend to.

Grabbing the pile next to him, Michael stood up and made his way to the room next to the one he was currently in.

-o0o-

Lindsey Willows at sixteen knew something wasn't right almost every time things weren't right. When she was a child, as she sat on a fake bed on stage, she knew something wasn't right when she heard her angry father's voice echo around the auditorium. Later, she knew something was not right too when daddy suddenly came in the car, hurting from a stomach ache. A few minutes after that, she knew something wasn't right when water was coming in the car and she was all alone, pink haired lady was gone and daddy didn't come back.

All her life she had been unintentionally trained to notice when something wasn't right.

And now she and grandmother, who was suddenly back from her cruise, sat in a patrol car with the sirens on and their own car was right behind, being towed to the place where her mother worked for more than two decades now.

The fact that Lily didn't blabber on about her cruise as Lindsey expected her to didn't help at all.

And Lindsey had asked questions of why, but her grandmother only told her something came up at her mother's job and they had to be called in. She had asked again and again, why after why after being pulled out of camp, but was surprised when her usually calm grandmother screeched at her that she was not going to answer her and that she just had to wait until they got to the CSI Lab to see her mother's friend.

So Lindsey sat back, seething as her grandmother sat stoically beside her, muttering about ruining her vacation and thinking about what she was going to say to her mother when she saw her. She was angry now, even as she sat with two police officers out front.

Lindsey was prepared to start another one-girl mutiny against her mother.

And this time she wasn't going to back down easy.

Even if she threatened her about being grounded; what else was new?

With her anger and ever growing mutinous thoughts, Lindsey suddenly forgot that something wasn't right and that maybe she might not be seeing her mother tonight.

In the back of her mind, those thoughts grew, but Lindsey was too angry to take notice.

She had more important thoughts to tend to.

-o0o-

Lily sat next to her granddaughter, her hands wringing her handkerchief nervously. She hadn't had it in her to tell her grandchild that her mother may have been abducted. She wondered how she was supposed to tell that to a child who had already lost a father and recently, her grandfather. She was relieved to leave the telling to the people who knew—knows, she corrected herself harshly—her daughter better than she did. For now, she would sit next to Lindsey and her anger plus her I-hate-the-world drama, and prepared herself for the onslaught that awaited them.

She wished Sam could be there, knowing he would know what to do and he would take care of everything. And she wouldn't have to be the strong one for he would do that and deal with Lindsey for he was perfect at that.

She realized how selfish that had seemed, but she brushed it off as the tears tried to come once more. The memory of her late Sam and the peril that his only daughter was in didn't make her continuous mourning easy.

Lily looked outside the window of the patrol car where she sat and recalled what had Sam told her once: "be strong, but be stronger when you remember I'm here no matter what and I love you forever."

In the back of her mind she remembered what he had said to her one strange night, "Remember me, but don't cry. When I'm gone, take a cruise and soak up the sun. Smile for both of us."

And so, even without the sun and after the cruise, Lily did as she was told: she smiled.

-o0o

Brass met Sophia by the doors of the Las Vegas Crime Lab. He gave her a grim smile, "Going in?" he held the door open for her.

She shook her head. "Not yet, Gil told me to go to the A/V Lab, but he mentioned Lindsey was on her way here in a patrol car with Lily. I told him I'd wait, they need someone right now."

"Has Lindsey been told about Catherine's abduction?" Brass asked carefully.

"I don't know yet, Lily might have told her," Sophia smiled. "I decided to wait for her, it's the least I could do for Catherine."

Brass nodded. "I'll wait with you then, Lindsey's a good kid."

"Yeah, Catherine told me about her, she seemed like a good kid," Sophia said, nodding. "Better let Gil know you're here. I think they're all counting heads."

Brass nodded. "I know," he said as he took out his phone to inform his CSI supervisor friend of his arrival. He knew the blonde detective was right, it was the least they could do for now.

-o0o-

Grissom sat, his mind running as his thoughts were muddled together in his mind. He wondered just how smart Corwin was, he wondered how long this game was about to go on, he wondered how Catherine was, he wondered what he was going to do now and most of all, he wondered about Lindsey.

He had forgotten the last time he saw the teenager. He wasn't aware of how she was or what she was doing. The last he had heard of her was the kidnapping and how Warrick and Catherine had found her duck taped onto a chair.

He realized he hadn't even talked to Catherine about that other than when she reported to him about it. He hadn't also come to see the teenager who once was the same little strawberry blonde time bomb who always called him 'Uncle Gil'.

He wondered if she still remembered him.

Grissom was anxious to see her again. The little girl was so into his bugs up to the point she begged her mother to allow her to take one home only to have Catherine, being a bug-hater (as she and Grissom had secretly referred to her) that she is, outright refused to allow one of those "things" to even come near her home. Lindsey had pouted and Grissom had smirked at Catherine's silliness with her fear of spiders.

He wondered now just how much Catherine's daughter had changed and how she was coping after years of losing her father and recently losing the grandfather she barely knew, but oh so wanted to know, evidently when Catherine had confided in him after having her daughter picked up for thumbing rides at Fremont Street. After that thumb ride incident, Grissom knew then things had gone awry between mother and daughter just after losing her father.

He wondered if they managed to fix things between them and how their relationship was now.

He knew he had been away for far too long, no longer visiting the young girl and no longer spending time with her mother. No longer calling to say hello or Merry Christmas, no more gifts, no more letters, no more news or special days dedicated to bug hunting at Lake Mead. And most of all, no more days when 'Uncle Gil' and his little butterfly would gang up on her mommy and 'bug' her to death.

Right then Grissom knew he was anxious not because he was curious as to how she was and how she had grown. He knew he was anxious to see her because of guilt.

He had been away too long.

-o0o-

She opened her eyes at the sound of the door opening and her hope rose once more. She sat up and tried to see the silhouette. She hadn't known when they had untied her, but once she woke up she realized she was unbound, but her mouth and nose were covered by some leather material that was tied to the back of her head. She guessed it was a muzzle of some sort and she had tried to get it off to no avail.

And she still didn't have her clothes.

But that didn't matter now.

Help had come and she was saved! They would give her something to cover up with and they'll take her home. Yes, it was all over. Someone had come to save her.

But the burning hope stopped cold when the man by the door didn't move or say anything. Suddenly she realized she wasn't about to be saved.

He was back.

And all hope was dead once more.

-o0o-

Lindsey watched sullenly as the patrol car stopped in front of the doors of the CSI Lab and she saw the man she remembered as 'Uncle Jim standing with a beautiful blonde detective she guessed to be Sophia Curtis. She turned to question her grandmother, but Lily had already slipped out her side of the car. Lindsey scowled and glared after her grandmother.

She was surprised when her 'Uncle Jim' walked over to the door and opened it with a smile while the woman talked to her grandmother. "Hello, Lindsey. Remember me? Uncle Jim."

Lindsey was compelled to say something sarcastic, but held herself back. Her mother deserved her anger, not some old Uncle she had almost forgotten about. So she nodded and stepped out.

"Let's go this way," Uncle Jim said as he led her past her grandmother who turned away so her back was to Lindsey, pretending look out the parking lot. He led her into the building and the cool air touched Lindsey with a soft caress.

She shivered as the feeling that something wasn't right came through her once more and getting angry at her mother wasn't so important now.

For the first time in a long time, though she would never admit it, Lindsey did wish she could see her mother. She had forgotten the last time she got a hug from her mother. She would die rather than admit it, but she missed her mother. Especially now when she felt like her world was about to get fucked up. She shivered.

It felt like the same day her father died.

She shivered again.

-o0o-

Sophia tried not to indicate that there was something wrong when Lindsey and Brass passed, but Lily had suddenly turned away. She waited before the teenager and her colleague were in the building before going on further. "Ms. Flynn, I am sorry about what happened, but…"

"I couldn't tell her," Lily said softly, wringing her handkerchief. "I couldn't…"

Sophia nodded. "I understand and I'm sorry this has happened to your family after just dealing with your tragic loss with…"

"Sam," Lily said softly, looking down on her feet. "He would have known what to do," she turned to the younger woman with a sad, tearful smile. "He would know what to do and he would be doing something about it right now. He loved Catherine more than anything and if he knew something like this happened…oh, he would have been so angry."

She knew what the older woman meant, but she had never felt it. To lose someone you love so much was something Sophia Curtis did not want to experience. She could only stare at the woman who, in her opinion, was dealing with too much so late in life—losing the man she loved, having her granddaughter kidnapped and now, her daughter taken away. She felt her own heart break for the woman.

"But I know what he'd want me to do," Lily said, looking at Sophia with the same sad smile. "He would tell me to be strong and find out daughter for Lindsey. Yes, he would tell me to do just that."

Sophia managed a small smile, "I understand, Ms. Flynn."

"My daughter has worked here for most of her life and she's drummed it into my mind how things worked here, but," she looked helpless for a moment. "Could you please just tell me something? I know you shouldn't say anything now while things are being in-investigated, but…"

Sophia nodded. "No, it's quite all right, Ms. Flynn. Why don't we step inside? Mr. Grissom—"

"Gil? Catherine's friend Gil?" Lily said softly, her eyes drifting away as she remembered who the man was. "The man who likes bugs?"

Sophia smiled, "Yes, Gil, he's waiting and he'll explain—"

"It's been a long time since he came by," Lily said wistfully and looked at Sophia. "You know, I always thought he and my daughter would end up together, but Sam didn't approve, said the man was too weird." She smiled. "But I think he just didn't like the thought of another man winning his daughter's heart. But when Mr. Grissom was around Catherine was happy and Lindsey too. He was such a good man, always looking out for my daughter. I wondered why he stopped coming." She sighed. "But Catherine, stubborn as a mule, wouldn't tell me anything. She said he was too busy and he had someone else…er, what was her name?"

Sophia smiled, relieved to see that for a while the woman was taken away from her conflicted thoughts and complicated world if not for just a moment. Plus, she was getting a glimpse into the relationship of her colleagues that had always been taboo. She would let the woman escape for now for she needed it. And also she wondered who Grissom was seeing if not Catherine.

"What was her name, dear?" Lily asked with her brows furrowed. "Oh! Oh! Yes, I think it was a Sara with…a family name that sounded I think, Jewish?"

Sophia raised an eyebrow, "Sara Sidle? She's not Jewish though."

Lily smiled, "Oh, yes, the other girl Catherine worked with. Yes, her with the dark hair. I knew it wasn't you dear, Catherine did mention about you and said you were a blonde so I remembered Sara with her hair."

Sophia was tempted to ask the woman more, but thought better of it. She couldn't believe Grissom was seeing Sara. She thought that sounded too wrong. She always thought it was Catherine. She wondered how right Lily was.

Then suddenly an alarmed look came over Lily's face. "Oh! I'm just awful! I should be thinking about Catherine, not bothering you with her relationships." She sighed. "I'm just terrible, Sam would laugh at me or maybe get upset." She straightened herself and looked at Sophia. "Dear, you were saying?"

Sophia decided she liked Catherine's mother who reminded her of her own mother, "Yes, Ms. Flynn—" she smiled as Lily cut her off once more.

"It's Lily, please," she said sheepishly. "Continue."

"I think it's best if Gil explained it to you," Sophia said as she began to lead her inside. "He's waiting inside for everyone, they're all expecting us, I'm sure."

Lily began to follow, but stopped and held Sophia by the arm. "Could you tell me one thing?"

"Anything, Ms.—Lily."

"Is Lindsey ever going to see her mother again?" Lily asked softly. "Will I ever see my daughter again, Detective Curtis?"

Sophia hated and dreaded these types of questions in cases like this. "We're working on that, Lily. Catherine is a very much loved and treasured colleague here and we've all put her case on top priority, we will not stop until we get her back. Be assured of that. We have the best working on this case, her team."

Lily looked into the eyes of Detective Sophia Curtis and knew she could trust the woman. She smiled softly and said, "Thank you."

That was Lily Flynn's relief that night and she was comforted so she let Sophia lead her further into the CSI Crime Lab.

Sophia hoped they would be able to stay true to her word.

-o0o-

Grissom sat in the A/V Lab with his team and Ecklie. Brass had just paged him he was coming in with Lindsey and Sophia with Lily Flynn. He looked around at everyone in the room as they waited. He could see in the far corner was Sara.

He looked away from her and his eyes drifted to the largest screen in the A/V Lab beside him where the neon digital clock was displayed, counting down the time when Michael Corwin was due to make another appearance. Under that screen, Archie was still working furiously since the clock was still connected to Corwin's line. He had insisted on continuing his work in trying to trace a location.

Grissom looked at his team: Warrick and Greg sat next to each other in two chairs, both somber and quiet yet deep in thought, Nick was perched on a table not too far from the two, but alone and Sara remained in the far corner where she seemed to have resigned herself to. Ecklie was by the doors, talking to the Sheriff Rory Atwater who was always more understanding when it came to Grissom and the lab than the other politicians like Undersheriff Mobley and the Mayor.

He looked out the glass panes of the A/V Lab, looking out for any sign of Brass or Sophia's approaching. He wasn't sure who he wanted to see first—Lindsey or Lily.

But then the approaching figure of Jim Brass and Lindsey Willows didn't give him much of a choice. He was amazed by how much Lindsey had grown and how she resembled Catherine that Eddie Willows' features were almost discernable. She walked with her eyes wandering around, taking in the changes since she was last there. Her hair, a much darker shade of red than her mother, was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore a gray hoodie and tight jeans.

Even from afar, she looked and acted like her mother and Grissom was proud to see that.

He saw the confusion in her father's hazel eyes and knew she hadn't been told of the situation yet. He almost hated Brass for not doing it himself. Grissom was clueless on children, especially now since he was supposed to know Catherine's child.

How do you tell your goddaughter her mother has been taken away by a lunatic?

Grissom's eyes drifted to Warrick who followed his gaze then and saw Lindsey. Immediately he stood up, looking back at Grissom and approached him. "You go ahead and I'll follow, she hasn't seen you in a long time. You need to reconnect yourself with her," Warrick said in a low voice.

"I think it'll be better if you explain this to her," Grissom said quietly.

Warrick shook his head. "No, this is yours to deal, Griss. She's your goddaughter, man."

Grissom sighed then nodded, his eyes trailing back to Lindsey who stood outside now with her back to the A/V Lab. Seeing Ecklie was still too busy to bother with Lindsey, Grissom stood up and made his way out to see the girl whom he used to call his little butterfly.

-o0o-

"Where's my mom?" Lindsey asked as Brass led her to the doors of the A/V Lab. Her eyes wandered around, taking in the place and seeing as how much of it had changed.

In her mind she smirked and thought they had to change it because her mother had "accidentally" blown up the lab, almost taking the cute lab tech Greg who used to baby sit her. Her mother had said she had decided to have a vacation, but Lindsey didn't buy it. She had found out the truth on the second night when her mother was having a small argument with her grandmother.

Brass looked into the lab and saw Grissom approaching. "Someone's coming out to explain some things to you."

Lindsey rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin even with the old cop who was supposed to be her Uncle and really wasn't. She turned to face the lab full of compters behind her and was rooted to the ground instantly when she saw a familiar face approaching from within.

The man comming out, who looked older than the last time she saw him, was indeed him in the flesh, real and actually in the same vicinity as her. To her, it seemed like another lifetime ago, but still there he was approaching her with a small smile on his face.

Then the memories came coming back in a rush. It was time when everything was different—daddy was still alive, but living in a different place because he and mommy always fought, mommy seemed happier to have a new house with just her and Lindsey and this man came coming back, cooking breakfast sometimes, making mommy laugh and them drinking their "grown up" orange juice that Lindsey always wanted to taste but her mom wouldn't let her even when she begged and pouted.

The man approaching her was the same man who called her his little butterfly, who took her out bug hunting and helped her make mommy scream with his spiders and his cute bugs.

"_Mommy!" Lindsey cried, tugging on her mother's shirt, the only part of her she could reach as of the moment. "Can I tell it to him now? Can I? Can I please? Pretty please?"_

_Her mother laughed, throwing her beautiful reddish hair back. "Yes, you can, Linds baby."_

_Excited, Lindsey turned from her mother and turned to the man kneeling in front of her with an expectant smile. "Uncle Gil!" she said happily, throwing her arms around his neck. "Uncle Gil, why did the fly fly?"_

_Her Uncle Gil thought for a moment, screwing his eyes together the way it always made her giggle. "I don't know, my little butterfly? Why?"_

"_Because the spider spied her!" she said happily, giggling happily at her clever riddle._

_Uncle Gil smiled and hugged her with a chuckle. "That's very clever, my little butterfly, now why don't we make mommy fly fly with my spider?"_

"_Oh Gilbert Arthur Grissom don't you dare! I swear if you get one of those things near me you'll be sorry!" her mother had shrieked and she and her Uncle Gil laughed._

Lindsey remembered him all too well and now all she wanted was to get away. She turned to Brass, "Can't we go wait in my mom's office of something?"

Brass was about to answer when the doors opened.

"Hello, Lindsey."

Lindsey turned and saw her old Uncle Gil standing in front of her, not as big as she remembered him to be, but still taller than her. She looked at him, but didn't say anything.

She just stared.

-o0o0o0o-

Eek, I really did not know who the current mayor is! I forgot! Believe me, I'm a CSI freak but there are just too many politicians to keep track of when it's really just Ecklie the idiot politician that played a slightly bigger role than normal. Cavallo? Atwater? Mobley? McKeen? Ugh! Did I even spell those right?!

Sorry about that!

Teehee, but I hope you like this one! Please don't hate me if you hate it! Let me know what you think! Would love to know more about what you guys think about Michael or whoever else. Teehee. Thank you so much for the awesome reviews!


	12. Chapter 12

Tattered and Broken, Stolen.

By: iferleigh

Rating: T (for now, just in case.)

Disclaimer: The ones you know aren't mine and the ones you don't know are mine.

Note: I am so sorry I haven't been updating this one. I have to admit I hit a really big block. I know, it sounds stupid and totally lame because for others this should be easy, but I'm not really a writer. I'm just a…fan with time to spare for daydreaming. I'm trying to make this right and I hope you forgive me for taking so long. So here goes, I hope you'll read this update! I'm so sorry.

Thank you for the reviews though, they've been much helpful.

-o0o0o0o-

Chapter Twelve: Seeing You Again

Lindsey stared at the smiling man in front of her and a rush of emotions came once more. She remembered a party she hadn't asked for, a day in the park with a man who wasn't her daddy, her mother laughing in the kitchen with a man who was busily cooking and again, it wasn't daddy.

She stared at the man and knew he was _that _man.

"Do you still remember me?" he asked, his smile fading a little and Lindsey could recognize alarm, doubt and nervousness in his soft blue eyes.

Lindsey looked at the man mutely, shaking her head a little.

"It's me, Uncle Gil," he said, trying to look hopeful.

She closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at the man. "Yeah," she said finally. "Uh, _Mr. Grissom_. Yeah, it's nice to see you again."

She saw the hopeful light die in his eyes, but she turned away and looked at Brass. "Uncle Jim, where's my mom? I want to see her."

She realized she had forgotten she was supposed to be angry at her mother.

Brass looked at Gil, who suddenly looked pale, then turned to the teenager in front of him. "We need to talk to you about your mother, Lindsey."

Lindsey looked at her Uncle Jim then Mr. Grissom. Suddenly, everything started to feel weird like a cloak of dread was suddenly thrown over her, making her wish she was somewhere else. She knew again something was wrong.

If her mother had sent for her, she would have met her by now.

"Where's my mother?" she asked then, anger flashing in her eyes. She didn't know why she was angry, but she wanted to see her mother right then and not talk to the two old men in front of her. She didn't know them anymore and she didn't care. Lindsey wanted to see her mother.

"I think we should take this in my office," Brass muttered as Lindsey took on the look that was so much like Catherine when she was angry it was almost eerie. He reminded himself she was Catherine's daughter.

Lindsey stomped her foot petulantly. "I don't want to see your office! I want to see my mother!"

"Lindsey Anne Willows!" came a reprimanding voice behind them. They all turned to see Lily Flynn, looking haggard and tired with Sophia, coming towards them.

Brass and Grissom were relieved to see her intact, despite the tiredness that was evident on her face. Lily, despite of the situation, was still able to pull together an authoritative look at her grandchild's petulance. Lindsey rolled her eyes.

"You behave yourself," Lily said to Lindsey. "They're your mother's colleagues; they're practically your Uncles! Have a little more respect, please!"

Lindsey rolled her eyes again, crossing her arms over her chest. "Save me the drama, grandma."

Lily looked apologetically at Grissom and Brass. "Mr. Grissom, Mr. Brass. Thank you for…being here. I—I'm sorry about Lindsey, she was pulled out from…"

Brass shook his head. "It's all right, Ms. Flynn. We were…just about to discuss everything with your granddaughter in my office."

"As I said, I don't want your stupid office!" Lindsey snapped, forgetting then how to be polite and respectful. It was troubling her that it wasn't her mother who was chastising her for being rude to her colleagues. "What the _hell _is going on? Where's my mother? I want to see her! Now!"

Brass sighed and looked at Sophia who nodded and stood next to Lindsey, blocking Brass and Grissom. She placed a hand on Lindsey's shoulder and was relieved the girl didn't turn away from her touch. "Lindsey, we need to tell you something very important about your mother and we think it would be better if we discussed in Captain Brass' office."

Lindsey paled. It felt like the night daddy died once more. "What's going on?" she croaked out nervously. "My-my mom, is she-is she d-dead?"

Lily paled at the question her grandchild had uttered and she bit her lip as she tried to keep her tears at bay. She looked at Brass and Grissom helplessly, but the captain only gave her a grim look. The knew, like after Eddie's death, Lindsey's life was going to be altered once more in the worst way possible.

Sophia shook her head and touched the girl's almost auburn hair. "No, no, but right now she's not with us and…"

"She's been kidnapped?" Lindsey was quick to ask, her eyes no longer angry, but eerily devoid of any readable emotion.

Sophia nodded. "Yes, but we're trying out best to get her back—and we will. Don't worry."

"Sophia," Brass said, shaking his head.

She ignored him and touched Lindsey's paling cheek. "Are you okay, Lindsey? Would you like a moment alone?"

Lindsey shook her head and looked around her slowly, numbly pushing the woman's hands from her face, her eyes falling on each adult. Her grandmother looked like she was going to cry, Detective Sophia Curtis looked sympathetic, Captain Jim Brass looked morose and then her eyes fell on Gil Grissom.

Suddenly Lindsey was angry again and she glared at Gil Grissom.

"_Uncle Gil," the little girl shrieked as she saw a giant approaching him, wearing all black. She squirmed from her Uncle Warrick's arms and ran toward him. Easily he wrapped her in his arms and picked her up._

"_Hello, butterfly," he said with a smile, making her giggle as he poked her on the side slightly._

_Her Uncle Gil, he was her gentle giant and favorite uncle._

_She buried her face into his shoulder, smearing her face painted cheeks on his shirt, the glittering yellow glowing against the deep black fabric of his shirt. "Where's mommy?" she asked softly. "She was supposed to watch me play Man in the Moon, but she never came. Uncle Warrick picked me up and said mommy was busy…where's mommy?"_

_She felt her gentle giant sigh and cuddle her close. "Mommy had to go somewhere for a bit, butterfly. She was sorry she missed your play, but she'll be back."_

"_You promise?" she asked, looking up at him with her chocolate brown eyes—her father's eyes._

_He nodded, playing with the golden locks of her hair, much like her mother's. "Yes, butterfly, I promise. She'll be back soon."_

"_Cross your heart, hope to die?" she asked in such an innocent way that only kids could._

_He smiled and made a cross sign on his heart. "Hope to die."_

"_Is mommy okay?" she asked, looking at her uncle worriedly._

"_She will be, butterfly," he assured her while, unbeknownst to the little girl; he was trying to reassure himself as well._

"_Is she safe?" she asked. "'Cause if not then I'm going to lose my mommy and I won't have a 'nother mommy but I don't want 'nother mommy, I want my mommy. She's pretty and smart and funner than other mommies. Plus she puts bad guys in jail and my friends think that's awesome..."_

"_She's safe, butterfly," her uncle Gil said then smiled. "I'll always keep her safe."_

"_Promise?"_

_He crossed his heart again. "Hope to die."_

"_Pinky promise?" she asked, lifting her pinky finger to his face._

_He smiled, hooking his own pinky finger with hers. "Pinky promise, butterfly."_

_Right then, she smiled and settled back in his embrace, sure that wherever her mommy was, she was safe and she was coming home. She wouldn't have to worry about getting another mommy._

_Uncle Gil had promised, crossed his heart and hoped to die. And pink promised as well. That was all the reassurance she needed. Her Uncle Gil would never lie to her._

"This is all your fault," Lindsey said coldly, piercing Grissom with an icy glare, surprising everyone in the group.

Grissom looked shell-shocked. "What? Lindsey I…"

"This is all your fault!" Lindsey said again, this time louder as her cheeks burned with rage. "You promised me! You promised me you'd always keep her safe!" She pushed past Sophia and threw herself at Grissom, her hands balled into fists.

"Lindsey!" Lily said as she scrambled to get her off of the man. Lindsey had begun to slam her fists on Grissom's arms, chest and shoulder.

"Where is she?" Lindsey screamed. "Where's my mother? You promised you'd keep her safe now she's gone! She's gone and it's all your fault!"

Sophia and Brass scrambled to pull Lindsey away from an unmoving Grissom. Warrick and Ecklie were already scrambling to get out of the A/V Lab.

"Lindsey, stop that!" Lily cried. "You cannot blame him for this!"

"He left her!" Lindsey cried, her anger, her frustration and her pain being let out suddenly as she pummeled the man she once saw as her second daddy.

He was the perfect second daddy for her because like her first daddy, he had walked out too, left her mother crying and left Lindsey missing him. All daddies were like that, Gil Grissom was no exception.

But at least her daddy came by when he could and took her to pretty places. Gil Grissom had simply disappeared without a trace, taking all his promises and his beautiful butterflies with him.

"He left me! He left her!" Lindsey cried as she slammed her fist against his chest. "He left us and he never came back! He broke all his promises and he broke another one! Now she's gone!"

Warrick came out and grabbed Lindsey's wrists, pulling her away from Grissom who looked devastated and shocked. The emotions were clear on the supervisor's face as he watched the teenager struggle angrily against the CSI. She was still screaming about him leaving and walking out, but Grissom was too shocked to react.

Lily was slumped against Brass who was looking at Lindsey, her devastation clear on her face.

It was only the beginning and Lindsey Willows was already breaking.

And she was bringing Gil Grissom down along with her.

-o0o-

The rest of the group watched the scene taking place outside, even Ecklie who had stopped to watch by the glass doors. They all watched Lindsey Willows' grief and rage, her anger directed to the man who might as well have been a father to her once upon a time.

"Should we do something?" Greg asked nervously, watching the girl who used to help him around his lab, giggling and pressing buttons as she went, trying to be a CSI like her Greg-o. She was far from that girl now, Greg realized, seeing she was almost a woman, just as beautiful as her mother only with features taken from her father as well.

Ecklie shook his head. "This…this is a personal matter," he said, his tone unusually lacking the commanding tone he always wore.

"But look at her," Greg said, rising from his seat. "She's…she's upset."

Ecklie nodded. "She's just been told about her mother, of course she's upset and Grissom's the one she's closest to, just wait till she lets all her initial shock out."

Nick shook his head. "This isn't right. Catherine should be there, be here…Lindsey doesn't deserve this, Catherine too."

Ecklie looked at Nick, and like his voice, his eyes were lacking their usual stern demeanor. "If Catherine was here, her daughter shouldn't have to be here. She should be with her friends."

Nick nodded, his worry and care for Lindsey overshadowing his surprise at Ecklie's unexpected humility towards some child he didn't even really know.

So they all watched until Sara stood up and headed out.

"Where are you going?" Ecklie asked.

"I—He needs me," Sara said, albeit hesitantly, expecting the Assistant Director to lash out on her for her relationship with her supervisor. She was expecting him to throw his sacred office rule book at her.

Ecklie shook his head. "You wouldn't want to be there, Sara, trust me. This is between Lindsey and Grissom and Catherine. Don't get mixed in that. It wouldn't do you or him any good."

Sara shook her head and went out anyway.

-o0o-

Lindsey was still crying, kicking and tossing blame and accusations at Grissom when Sara came out. The tears were clear on the teenager's face and Lily, slumped against Brass was trying not to cry as they all witnessed the Lindsey's pain.

"This is all your fault!" Lindsey cried. "You left us! You promised! You promised, but you walked out!" she sobbed. "You're just as bad as dad!"

Grissom staggered back as if he was hit with a physical blow, stepping back into Sara and immediately her hands felt his arms for support. He didn't acknowledge her and just stared at the raging teen.

"No," Lindsey said as the tears continued to roll down her cheeks. "No, no you're not like dad…You're _worst_ because you left without a trace—you just left! You left even when he was gone! You weren't there! I blame you! I blame you for this! I _hate_ you!"

Sara felt Grissom stiffen. "Gil, it's okay. She's just in pain. She doesn't mean it."

She watched as Warrick shook his head and pulled Lindsey back, hushing her and talking to her as he pressed her back against him. Sophia stood in front of the girl, blocking Grissom from her again and Brass and Lily turned to Grissom and Sara.

"We'll talk to her, Gil," he said gently. "She's just angry right now."

"She hates me," Grissom said, numbly. "She hates me."

Lily shook her head. "No, no, she doesn't. She's just upset, I'm sorry, Mr. Grissom. She's just a child who wants her mother."

Grissom shook his head. "But she's right, I promised I'd keep Catherine safe…"

Lily shook her head. "You were a good friend to her, you did right by here. Please, don't take what my granddaughter says in grief to heart. She's just upset."

Sara nodded, rubbing his shoulder reassuringly. "Yeah, Gil, just…wait a little. Lindsey will come around. Right now let's focus on Catherine."

Brass turned to Sara. "Just get back in, okay? Make sure everything is all right. We have a few minutes left…make sure everything is set up with Archie. We'll deal with Lindsey."

Grissom shook his head. "No, I—I want to talk to her."

Brass shook his head. "Not right now, she's upset and we don't have time and you still have lead on this. You need to focus."

Lily nodded. "She will be okay, Mr. Grissom. Don't worry."

"Get him in there," Brass said to Sara.

Sara nodded, "Okay. Will you come with us, Lily?"

Lily looked at Lindsey who was being consoled by Sophia and Warrick. Brass nodded at her and said, "We'll take care of her, Lily. She's been a like a daughter to us since she was small."

Smiling sadly, Lily nodded. "Okay, thank you, Mr. Brass."

Sara nodded at Brass before steering Grissom away and into the lab, Lily following right behind. Ecklie held the door open and ready.

"Get him in," Ecklie said. "Time's almost out."

-o0o-

"Lindsey," Warrick said firmly. "Lindsey, its okay to be angry, to cry…but don't be like this."

Lindsey shook her head, slumping against her Uncle Warrick. Since her kidnapping, they have grown closer, almost like she was with her Uncle Gil. "He left us, he left mom, he left me…he promised me he'd always keep her safe. He promised…and now she's gone…"

Sophia shook her head. "Lindsey, it's not over yet. We're going to bring your mother home, she's not gone. No, she isn't so you have to be strong."

Lindsey sniffled, turning away from the woman who was almost a stranger to her and buried her face against her Uncle Warrick's chest. "I want her back! I have been so…mean to her, I want her back! I have so much to say! She thinks I hate her!"

Warrick shook his head and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "She doesn't think that, Lindsey. She loves you and she cares about you, she knows you love her and we're going to bring her back, she's not gone. I promise."

Lindsey sniffled. "I blame _him_ for this. It's all his fault."

Warrick shook his head again. "No, Lindsey. Grissom didn't do this…please, let me explain everything to you. It's important you know."

Lindsey hiccupped. "There's nothing to explain. She's gone."

Warrick sighed. "Linds, no, no. Let's talk about this, okay? Right now, there are some things you have to know."

Lindsey sniffled, wiping her cheeks with the cuff of her hoodie. "Okay."

Warrick looked at Sophia and Brass who both nodded their consent. He pulled Lindsey gently aside and sat her down on one of the chairs by the hall. Brass and Sophia followed close.

"Lindsey," Warrick said softly as he knelt in front of her. "I'm going to tell you everything we know so far, okay? I want you to listen because this is very important."

The girl nodded, her cheeks now dry and red.

"Your mother was taken last night from your house," Warrick eased in and waited for a reaction, but found none. The girl looked at him, her brown eyes wide. He wondered if she was going into shock. "A man took her, his name is Michael Corwin. Does that name sound familiar to you?"

Lindsey shook her head. "Not really. No."

Warrick nodded. "Okay. He knows your mother, he knows you and us at work. Right now we don't know what he wants, but he has your mother and we're going in there in a few minutes to meet with him through a web cam, okay?"

Lindsey's brow furrowed. "He's not asking for money? No ransom? Isn't that what always happens? How does he know me? My mom? I don't even know him!"

Warrick shook his head. "He doesn't want money, he's a very wealthy, very rich man and he's one of your grandfather's friends. He knows you because he's been following your mother and he has her journals…"

Lindsey shook her head. "What journals? Mom doesn't have journals!" Her face registered further confusion. "And what's grandpa got to do with this? He's_ dead!_"

Warrick looked at Brass who nodded and sat beside Lindsey. "Your grandpa has nothing to do with this, as far as we know."

Lindsey nodded. "But what about those journals you said about? Mom doesn't keep journals…"

"Are you sure?" Brass asked.

Lindsey opened her mouth, but closed it again. "I—I think so…Mom wouldn't keep journals…but then I haven't talked to her in a while so I don't really know."

Brass looked at Sophia who nodded. "Well, your mother had journals, Lindsey and she's been writing on them for quite sometime now."

"Do I get to read it?" Lindsey asked, wondering what her mother wrote about her or if she ever did. She was caught between wanting to know and not wanting to know.

"Not yet," Warrick said. "It's evidence and we think he's been reading them too and that's how he knows me, you and everyone she works with."

Lindsey's cheeks flushed a deeper red. "I haven't been talking to mom," she rolled her eyes. "It's been more like…screaming really."

Brass nodded. He had a teenage daughter once, he knew what that was like all too well. "Screaming? Are you and your mother fighting again?"

Lindsey shrugged. "Sometimes…she just…" she sighed. "Sometimes she just talks and I get annoyed and I tell her I don't want to talk to her and stuff and she won't listen and then…I'd scream and she would scream back and then nana would join in then…I'd walk up to my room so yeah…maybe we've been fighting lately." Her eyes filled with tears again. "Now it all feels so stupid…" she bit her bottom lip and started fiddling with her fingers. "Sometimes I'd scream just to get her off my back…sometimes I just…I was just so stupid. Mom just usually wants to talk but school gets crazy and all…God, she thinks I hate her…"

Sophia nodded and took the other seat next to her. "It's okay, Linds. It happens, we've all been there. Your mother understands. She knows you love her like she loves you. Don't worry."

Lindsey nodded. "I love my mom…I do. I wish I told her…"

Sophia nodded and pulled her in a hug. "Don't worry; everything will be okay, Lindsey. You will tell her later, okay?"

Lindsey nodded. "I want my mom back."

Warrick looked at Brass. "We'll get her back."

-o0o-

Michael sat in his seat, smiling and tapping his fingers together. The neon numbers glowed brightly at him, counting down by the second. It was almost time and he was ready.

"For Catherine," he whispered with a smile as he gazed at the pictures on the wall in front of him.

They were all of her, boasting her beauty in a montage that covered most of the wall.

She was beautiful

He closed his eyes, laced his fingers together and bent his head, reciting an old prayer taken from his childhood memories. First, he prayed for strength for what he was about to do, for courage to say the things Catherine never could let herself say, for understanding for when everything is over, Catherine would see reason and understand why he did what he had to do.

Also, he prayed for power, to bend and punish those who needed to be punished for hurting the one he loved more than life itself, for taking her for granted and for causing tears to fall down her beautiful but sad blue eyes. Last, he prayed for love, for the love he had saved all those years for the only woman who managed to take his breath away and made him fall in love so easily and without hesitation.

He prayed for the woman who had unknowingly seized his heart with just by her beauty and for being simply her.

He prayed for Catherine.

-o0o-

Grissom sat down in front of the computer, watching as the neon numbers counted down to each nearing second. He forced himself not to think about Lindsey, not to think about the wounding words she had screamed, the promise he had broken and the hate that seemed to reach out and threaten to choke the life out of him.

Grissom forced everything out, other than the image of Catherine. Their last encounter was still fresh in his mind, her tears and her anger, her pain and her frustration. He knew he had been wrong to let those take him down, but not now. He would replay those words, reply her emotions in his mind and use them to drive himself to everything and anything it takes to get her back.

He would use that painful memory to bring her back, to make it his mission to bring her back and tell her everything he never got the chance to tell her.

He still had a lot to say, a lot to let her know, he wasn't going to give up. He was going to bring her back, whatever it took. For once, he would be consciously selfish, bringing her back for his own reasons and not for anyone else.

He had a lot left to say, he wasn't going to let her go without a fight.

He wanted and _needed_ her back.

He would do it all.

All for Catherine.

-o0o-

Lindsey had calmed down, having been told everything they knew about her mother's abduction. She was alright, for now, as Warrick, Sophia and Brass escorted her into the A/V Lab. She remembered the place vaguely, remembering only the dark haired Asian who she had more than once caught playing Counter Strike or some other game. She remembered she must have caught him playing Star Wars once.

She remembered his name was from that comic book she liked to read, Archie.

She came in and saw everyone who was in the room. She tried to remember, naming them one by one in her head, trying to match the face to the name based on her memory.

Lindsey decided to start easy, spotting the worried looking guy not too far from where she now stood by the entrance of the lab. She recognized him off bat, noting that he looked a lot older now, a lot more mature. She remembered his funky colored spiky hair and rock music. She had images of him dancing as he processed a cotton bud. Greg Sanders looked a lot different now, her Greg-o.

Turning away from him, her eyes fell on the balding man, making his way towards her with her grandmother who was looking a little pale and a lot worried.

Lindsey didn't really know him, only remembering moments when she spotted him around the lab right before her mother would grab her a pull her in another direction. She remembered, as her mother ranted with her Aunt during one visit, she called him a "pompous, arrogant balding bastard" and proceeded to rant about how he was a jerk and always managed to screw things up around the lab and her work.

She didn't know him, but her mother was accurate, Lindsey guessed he was the infamous Conrad Ecklie.

He smiled at her, she was tempted to tell him off. "Lindsey, I'm Conrad Ecklie and I'm work with your mother." He held out a hand.

She hesitated, but shook hands anyway.

"I want you to know everyone is trying their best to get your mother as fast as possible safe and sound, so don't worry, Lindsey," he said, reeking of bullshit while trying to assure her. "We have the best working on this, your Uncle Gil."

Lindsey felt herself stiffen. "He's not my Uncle," she said, feeling the sudden urge to hurt someone again. It was the same feeling she had when she was annoyed with her mother.

Ecklie stood back, nodding. "Mr. Brown has explained everything to you?" he looked at Brass who nodded. "Would you like to sit down? We're about to begin."

"Does she really need to be here?" Lily asked worriedly. "She's just a child, Mr. Ecklie."

Lindsey felt the urge to scream. "I am not a child, grandmother," she said, almost coldly. "I'm sixteen and I want to meet this fuck who took my mom."

"Lindsey!" Lily scolded. "Language, please!"

She turned away and looked around, spotting the brunette who sat near Gil Grissom. She was huddled close to him, watching him and paying Lindsey or the people close to her any mind. She recognized her well.

_The woman had come over one time for a Christmas party that had been held at their house. Lindsey was still small, playing with her Bridal Barbie, her Ken Doll dressed in a tux and her newly acquired gift from her Aunt Nancy, Malibu Barbie. She was on the floor of the living room by the tree when she came in, smiling._

"_Hello, Lindsey, Merry Christmas," she said with a smile as she crouched low to meet Lindsey's smiling excited face._

"_Merry Christmas, Aunt Sara!" Lindsey said happily. "Look what Aunt Nancy gave me! She said I could open my gift today so I did!" she showed her doll excitedly._

_The woman stared, looking at the blonde-blue-eyed doll. "That's nice, Lindsey."_

_She smiled. "I always wanted a Malibu Barbie! She's so pretty!"_

_The woman looked awkward. "Yes, she is."_

_Suddenly her mother came, chuckling. "Honey, can I borrow your doll for a minute?"_

"_Sure," Lindsey said, happy to share with her mommy. As far as she knew, her crime stopper mom who still knew how to play Barbie and eat ice cream was the coolest mom in the planet._

_Her mom picked up Bridal Barbie and handed it to her Aunt Sara, who took it in both hands with a puzzled look. "Sara, meet Bridal Barbie."_

_Her mother laughed and Lindsey giggled, not sure why, but she giggled anyway for her Aunt Sara's face was funny._

"_Oh, this is Bridal Barbie?" Sara asked, her eyebrows knitted. "This was all the fuss was about?"_

_Catherine laughed. "Oh, Sara, you never get it, don't you?"_

The woman hadn't changed; she was the same short haired brunette who always stood close to her Uncle Gil. She still had the same pale skin, same dark eyes, same dark clothes and the same gap in her teeth. Lindsey remembered her well.

But she wasn't _Aunt_ Sara anymore to her; she was just Sara, Sara Sidle.

Just like Gil Grissom was just Gil Grissom.

She was never anything of an Aunt to her to begin with anyway.

"Lindsey," someone said gently, tearing her attention away from the brunette.

She turned just in time as she was enveloped in a gentle, but warm hug. She looked up into smiling sad brown eyes and cute boyish features. Instantly she knew who this was, the cute Texan her mother worked with. Apart from her Uncle Warrick, her Uncle Nick was one of the coolest Uncles she'd ever had. She remembered she had a crush on him.

"It's gonna be okay, Linds," he said as he held her tighter. "We're here for you."

"Thank you," was all Lindsey could muster to say. It felt nice to be held safely like that, it reminded her of her father's hugs before everything got so wrong with him and her mother.

As she pulled back, her eyes drifted to the lone figure near Sara, huddled in front of the computer and sitting like a stone statue with his back to her. His shoulders were tensely squared; his head held upright and his dark figure looking as if prepared for battle.

Lindsey looked at him, remembering butterflies, bugs, spiders and her mother screaming while perched a chair with a murderous look. She remembered a lot of things.

But she didn't care. She didn't know him, he was just a memory. The real person was no longer part of her life, almost dead to her, but not quite.

But near.

She was seeing him again, but he was only a stranger now. She was fine without him; she only needed her mother back.

After that, when everything would be over, she would not wait, would not see, would not care because she knew he would only walk out of her life again.

She made it without him once, she could do it again.

-o0o0o0o-

Okay, I know it's been forever and I know you must hate me but here I am!

I swear, if I still get reviews and they are not 'I'll-kill-you's' in a bad sense…I will upload my ready Chapter 13 asap. I learned my lesson: I will **never** double post again, after The Hardest Thing's still empty review area for Chapter 10. No more double posts from me.

But review this one, let me know you still want to see the end (the last four chapters for the ending are done) and I will keep going. So let me know, okay? I know you can hate me, but the little purple button screams your name! And it also screams my apology…teehee…

Spoiler:

They finally meet Michael Corwin.

And Catherine's journals are opened.


End file.
